Strange House
by Rin Fang
Summary: "Arceus can weep all he wants," says Riley, grasping that accursed briefcase tighter as we descend into the dark chasms below. "Are you ready to fulfill your destiny, Roarkie? I've been waiting my whole life for this." Dark, Haganeshipping, Roark/Riley, Genhyou, whatever you like to call it. Rating subject to change.
1. Letters to Riley

**First of all, this is slash. If two loving adults who happen to be of the same sex offend you, you probably shouldn't read this. I noticed that RoarkxRiley is a rare pair and that makes me sad, so welcome to Haganeshipping **_**hell. **_**Follows mostly video game canon, but with some Black 2 stuff and an alternate continuity of Ruby thrown in the mix (if that makes sense... eh, you'll see!). Rating's subject to change, but it's T for now, mostly for language and subjects that are... unsavory in polite conversation.  
**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Pokémon. But, _man, _it would be sweet if I did.

Strange House

or,

Stopping Short of Perfection

Rin Fang

Chapter 1: Letters to Riley

Roark

I have always and forever will maintain that Rock-Type Pokémon are my favorites, but I can't help but beam from ear to ear when Pelipper arrives at my PO Box with the mail. It's not so much the Water Bird I care for—it's what it represents.

For the past few months, the post office has been the only place I've shown myself besides the gym, Oreburgh mines, maybe the Sinnoh Underground on occasion, and a select few other places.

Pelipper's mail is the highlight of my day, and by the time I unlock my PO box my arms are trembling with excitement. Then comes the sinking feeling I get, then the fear that he might have forgotten me as I rifle through a mountain of useless magazines and troublesome bills, and finally the burst of joy when I finally catch a glimpse of the envelope with the familiar seal on it.

My heart pounds at a million miles an hour as I race on home to my apartment, only offering a wave in return to my coworkers as they greet me on the streets. My lungs burn with the acrid mining town air, but it feels refreshing to me, in a way. Down to earth, I guess. Old, somewhat decrepit buildings loom above me, the only modern architecture in the sooty place the Pokémon Center and the Mart.

Oreburgh is an old, blue-collar sort of city. Most of the people here are involved with the mines in some way, including me. It's a life of hard labor and little pay, but the citizens here are modest, honest folk. This is my home, and I will stay here no matter how smoggy the pollution gets (well, it's gotten better since most of the mine machinery was replaced by the help of a tribe of friendly Machop, so I think I can rest easy).

The building my apartment is in is almost a hundred years old, and an elevator has never been installed. I run up three flights of steps, and by the time I reach my room I'm wheezing and my knees are knocking together with trepidation. I can barely fit the key in the hole—my hands are trembling too much—and I slam the door shut and lock it when I do get inside.

My apartment is messy. My equipment and clothes are strewn all about, and my bag blocks the entrance to the bathroom. Paper plates are in the sink for some reason, and an incubator with two Cranidos eggs in them blocks off a whole section of the hallway. There are shelves everywhere, cluttered with books and papers and Poke Balls, and my lead Pokémon and friend, Rampardos, is sleeping on the couch, torn up and sputtering out cotton stuffing from where his claws and spikes pierced the material. The only thing organized in the whole place is my fossil collection shelf, a shining beacon in a Tepigsty. A desk lamp illuminates it, and the various beautiful patterns of the fossils cast complex shadows on the floor.

Without waking Rampardos, I race to my bed. It's somehow even worse than my apartment, scattered with yet more papers. They're all written on, notes in the margins and slashes made through sentences with pen. Half of the letters are written in red ink, and the other half is written in blue. I have at least forty more of these letters in my desk drawer, but these ones are my favorites.

In red ink, are copies of my correspondences to _him._

In blue ink, are _his _replies.

And I treasure every word.

Before I open the newest letter, I begin my nightly ceremony of reading my previous favorites. I start at the first one he ever sent me. His handwriting is cramped and kind of swirly, almost illegible even, but I can make it out:

_Hello, Roark!_

_ How are you doing? I haven't seen you in years. I hope you are well. I dearly regret missing you at the Survival Zone when you were at the Battle Frontier a couple weeks back. As I'm sure you can attest to, work unfortunately comes before friends in this society we live in, and what I thought would be a simple commission to join challengers in double battles at the Battle Tower has turned into a life-consuming job! I'm certain you remember Lucas, right? The child has decided to become a Frontier Brain instead of the Sinnoh Champion. An odd choice, but I don't blame him. Champion is quite an exhausting duty. I'm helping to train him. Obviously, the boy is quite talented, but he needs to learn how to draw out the speed of a Pokémon. I understand Cranidos evolved recently? Lucario is still with me, but one day I found him clutching an egg! I guess he found a girlfriend… have you found a girlfriend yet, Roark? Your friend from Eterna City is cute. Anyway, I wish you luck on your position as Oreburgh Gym Leader and foreman of the mine. You have quite a bit to be proud of, young man._

_Sincerely,_

_Riley_

Riley can ask some rather invasive questions, but he means well. Smiling, I put down the letter, and pick another one up. My response:

_Riley!_

_ What compelled you to write so suddenly? Is Dad using you to spy on me again? Haha, just kidding, of course. It's great to hear from you, but you do have my Xtranceiver number, don't you? I would've liked to stay on the island a bit longer myself, but the lowest-tier gym leader always has the most challengers. It's a fact. Sometimes challengers even show up without making an appointment—I have to scramble all the way up from the mines to battle mode just for them. Lucas was one of these people, but he's a good kid. I guess he got to learn the system better eventually. It was embarrassing getting beaten by him the first time, but now that I have two years' perspective on it, I'm glad I could play part in preparing a prodigy such as him... still, had I my usual partners, I bet I would've crushed him first time around! Yes, Cranidos did evolve into Rampardos! He's not as cute as he used to be and he can't sleep in my bed anymore since he's too big, but he's still my best Pokémon. Oh well, I still have twenty Cranidos in the back of the gym if the mood to look at one ever strikes me. Don't you dare tease me! Gardenia and I are just friends… and it's not like you have a girlfriend either! Anyway, thank you. I've missed you. I hope to see you again someday._

_Sincerely,_

_Roark_

The next letter is his reply to mine:

_Roarkie, Roarkie, Roarkie…_

_ Do you always assume I'm just your father's little lackey? Believe me, if Byron had known half the things I let you get away with when I watched you as a kid, he would've had a coronary! As his friend, I can't let that happen to him, now can I?_

Here he drew a little smiley face emoticon. I crack up at it, since it seems like silliness is the kind of thing he'd never do in real life, but I know him better than that.

_No, I write to you because you are my friend as much as Byron is. You have grown into a fantastic young man and I embrace your friendship with open arms. Yes, I do have your number, but I prefer to write. After all, you can keep letters forever. You are far from a "low-tier gym leader," Roarkie. The level you work at might not be the highest, but you perform an honorable function—introducing young trainers to the professional world. Besides, when you're with your permanent team, I'm sure you're anything but weak! You're honestly not missing much not being at the island. The currency here—Battle Points—is inflated to all hell! You must fight seven trainers for three Battle Points… really now!? I'm glad I'm only doing this for the love of the job. I don't actually need the money, you see._

That's a no-brainer. He's a millionaire; maybe he has even more money than that. He comes from old wealth—the heir of Canalave Industrial, Sinnoh's biggest heavy industry conglomerate and main employer of the average lower middle-class workingman. It's mainly an iron milling business, but it has branches invested in other forms of energy, such as coal mining, which is my area of expertise. Canalave Industrial is so huge that it even has mills and processing plants in the region of Hoenn, and there's talk of expanding to Unova. Both my Dad and I are employees; him in the iron mills in Canalave City, and me in the coal mine of Oreburgh. To this day I have no idea why Riley decided to befriend but one of his thousands of employees and his young son, but most people can't bloody understand why he does what he does anyway. Maybe it's because he's a Pokémon trainer like us—and he's a damned good one at that. That's what I always figured.

_Oh, okay, you got me! I don't have a girlfriend either, but you should keep looking—although most fish in the sea are Magikarp, you might just find a Feebas!_

_Your friend,_

_Riley_

And I read through the letters like this, one by one. Slowly but surely the conversation deepens from lighthearted small talk and the letters take a darker tone. In these letters, I spill out my heart to him, and he listens. He never tells me any of his problems, but maybe he doesn't have any.

Riley is very secretive, but I like that about him.

And I'm not saying he's perfect, but he's kind of perfect.

Eventually I come to my letter from last night. It's been badly photocopied, so much that the words are harder to make out than Riley's handwriting:

_Riley,_

_ I don't know what to do anymore. I feel very tired. When I do get rest, I have nightmares. Last night I dreamed about a girl. She was looking for an Abra… she seemed so sad. She wandered through her house and found her Abra with her dad, and he was blathering terrible madness about being unable to escape his own nightmares. The Abra tried to eat his dreams, then, to make the nightmares go away, but he screamed and rose up like an angry wave. I've been having this dream a lot lately. But that's not important. Now I know why Dad first asked you to be the leader of Oreburgh Gym. I'm not cut out for this. I lose more battles than I win everyday, and I don't even care if I win or not anymore. Lately I haven't even been much interested in digging for fossils… am I just starting to hate Pokémon or what? If this keeps up, I'm sure the Sinnoh League will revoke my position, and really, the only reason I'd even fight to keep this job is to avoid Dad's admonishment. This makes me feel horribly selfish, like I have squandered your gift… I have no drive for anything. Maybe I ought to be a scientist instead of a Gym Leader. I think it's possible I may have wasted my life on arbitrary hobbies and I'm just realizing that now. I don't know. Riley, please call me. I value your words but I need to hear your voice again. Please don't take this the wrong way. Every word I read of yours makes my heart pound and my cheeks flush. Your letters fill me with an indescribable anxiousness but overwhelming happiness, even despite these bitter things I write. I never knew how much I valued you as a friend until you wrote me. Thank you, Riley. I don't know what I'm feeling, but I need you._

_Love,_

_Roarkie_

And really, who knew that these sad words could bring me so much happiness? Despite my insecurities, despite my exhaustion, I know I have a friend somewhere. This letter is probably the messiest of all of them; I cross out sentences and scribble over words madly to hide them.

Finally, the moment of truth comes. I open his newest letter and savor every word, every stroke that he made with his pen.

_Oh, Roarkie…_

_ We all get lost in life sometimes. You are young yet, and the young often don't know what to do with themselves… half the time I don't know what to do with my life either! There is a world beyond mining and Pokémon battles. Contrary to popular belief, not being a trainer does not make you useless. You are a smart person, Roark—explore your interests and feel the world with a new perspective! I also refuse to believe there's such a thing as an "arbitrary hobby." We would all go mad if we didn't have anything we cared about, regardless of how silly it may seem—wouldn't you agree? I recommended you as a Gym Leader because I saw true potential in you. I partially also refused the position because I'm established, but more than anything I want to see you fly. However, did you know that Gym Leader burnout is rather common? Don't feel you'd ever be squandering that opportunity I gave to you—if anything; I should be indebted to you for taking the whole Gym Leader thing off my hands. I'd go insane if I had to settle down. No, sir, I'm not ready for that yet! I'll be honest; it hurts me to know that you're feeling such depression, but it also makes me happy to know that you trust me enough to tell me. Roarkie, I doubt that you could ever hate Pokémon. Even when you were a kid and was vehemently against training to be a Gym Leader, you loved playing with the wild Pokémon when you visited me on Iron Island. Do not let that spark of passion fade, Roark, even if you ultimately decide not to be a trainer._

_ I'll be frank. Byron will be disappointed, but you are his son. It might not seem like it sometimes, but he loves you to death, and ultimately, he will accept you and your life choices for what they are. I can vouch for this. He's always talking about you. Sometimes the things he says are less than complimentary, but he mostly gushes about you. And in my opinion, he has every right to._

_ I think you are fantastic. I know I can trust you to overcome any hurdle. You did help defeat Team Galactic two years ago, didn't you? Without your kick-start, Lucas would have never succeeded… but this isn't about Lucas. I am honored beyond any words to have you as my friend. I believe you'll shine no matter what, but you must keep that flame of passion alive!_

_ Don't fret. You'll get to see me very soon._

_ Love,_

_ Riley_

_ P.S. Don't feel silly telling me about your dreams! That one you had sounds quite worrisome indeed! I need some more time to think about it though, so I apologize for not addressing it tonight._

I take a deep breath and squeeze his letter close to my heart.

Riley is kind.

Riley understands.

Riley is my friend… Riley is my friend!

My trembling reduces to a light shaking, but still it's hard for me to write as I pen my reply:

_Riley…_

_ You make my head spin._

RING!

I snap back into reality and reach for my Xtranceiver in my back pocket. It rings once, twice, each time louder and more desperate, it seems. My heart skips a beat and I pick it up.

My Xtranceiver wallpaper is of Riley when I last saw him, four years ago. He's standing with me outside a park, and I'm smiling from ear to ear. Rampardos-neé-Cranidos is in my arms, and Riley's Lucario is wrapped around his leg. Dad took the photo, I remember.

Maybe it's him! Maybe he really did call! I press a button and read the number on the caller ID.

And my heart sinks.

It's Volkner.

He's been calling me thirty times every day since _it _happened.

I haven't returned any of his calls yet.

Immediately my happiness fades away and I curl my lips in disgust. A knot forms in my stomach and I get off the bed, and I walk to the mirror, and I look at myself.

I'm so tired.

People say I have bright eyes but the lights are out now, and my normally well-kept hair is a ginger mess. Riley's words leave me and again I'm filled with doubt and apathy, and…

Someone knocks at the door.

"Hey, Roark!" calls a familiar voice from the great beyond. "Get your scrawny arse out of bed and let me in!"

I sigh and compose myself, and I answer the door. In the hallway stands a short girl with a weird orange and black bowl cut. She wears a black turtleneck, forest green cape and cutoff capris. Her amber eyes twinkle with mischief and she grins, holding a bag up to my nose.

"Hey, Roarkie!" greets Gardenia in a singsong voice. She points her finger at me playfully and skips right in. "Oh, what's that?" She indicates the incubator. "Are you finally raising something other than ugly Rock-Types?"

"Yeah, thanks for the advance notice that you're visiting, _Gardenia_," I answer sarcastically, hiding any indication of my mood. "And no. Those belong to the other trainers at the gym. Grass-Types suuuuuuuuuck, by the way. Rock-Types have good offense, and are great additions to teams to get victories, not that you'd know with your wimpy little radishes and stuff. And they're not ugly. I think Cranidos is adorable. Just look at those stubby little arms. Awwwww."

"God, you're weird. Oh, it. Is. On! Rock-Types are weak to Grass-Types, for your information, Fossils Glasses! And it's called 'Oddish,' not 'radish,' idiot." She lightly punches my stomach and sticks her tongue out at me. "To show you the superiority of the Grass Pokémon, I challenge you to a battle right now!" She takes the stance she does when challenging opponents at her gym in Eterna City. Being bombastic is part of the job.

"Not right now."

"Wow. Lame. Anyway, I brought you some dinner. I got poffins for Rampardos, too!"

"Why?" I raise an eyebrow.

Gardenia laughs and acknowledges the mess around us. "Because you have no idea how to take care of yourself and your dear, dear friend Gardenia is kind enough to not let you rot!" She waltzes to the kitchen and opens the pantry. "Exhibit A: Roarkie's pantry. Instant ramen. Potato chips. Soda pop. Great diet! Exhibit B: the rest of your apartment." She stops when she sees the fossil case and bursts into laughter. "Ahahaha, oh Arceus, are you still obsessed with your little fossil thing? They might call you 'Roark the Rock,' but maybe a better name for you would be 'Roark the Dork!'"

"Because 'Master of Vivid Plant Pokémon' is so cool, too. Seriously, why are you here?"

"I actually just wanted to tell you about my trip to Unova. I didn't make it into the Pokémon World Tournament finals, but I saw a lot of the gyms there. They're like you wouldn't believe! You could take a few lessons from them. Your gym is pretty shitty."

"At least mine's functional. Mine doesn't have a stupid, non-sequiter gimmick like clocks. Clocks! In a Grass gym! I liked your gym better before the renovations."

"Don't talk to me like you know crap about design, Helmet Hair."

This is the core of our relationship. Gardenia insults me, and then I insult her back. We mercilessly harpoon each other, but that's the point. Our spats are just for show. Gardenia is one of my best friends, even if she does like the worst Type.

"Anyway, can we eat? Here, Rampardos! Catch!"

Rampardos is awake now, no doubt stirred by the commotion, and he snaps up the poffin Gardenia throws at him.

"I hope you like salad. You're probably not familiar with the concept of vegetables since you're always too busy to feed yourself properly, but it's good. Roark the workaholic, that's you. Roarkaholic. Hey… don't groan! Okay, groan. That was pretty bad…"

I get out some paper plates and forks and she serves the salad. It's spinach, lettuce, and carrots with vinaigrette. There are also curly noodles in it. It's much better than instant ramen, but I won't give her the satisfaction of her knowing it.

We chew a bit, and Gardenia talks a bit. We chew a lot, and Gardenia talks a lot. I can't get a word in edgewise, but Unova sounds interesting. Apparently there are Pokémon there that can't be found anywhere else.

The evening goes well.

That is, until the stupid Xtranceiver rings again.

It rings once. It rings twice. Five times.

Gardenia says, "Aren't you going to get that?"

I shake my head.

Gardenia says, "It's Volkner, isn't it?"

… So that's what this is about. I knew she wouldn't come all the way out from Eterna City just to shoot the crap. I flip open the Xtranceiver, and it's Volkner all right.

"What's Flint been putting you up to?"

I should've known she'd join the dark side.

Gardenia raises an eyebrow and sets down her fork. The Xtranceiver is still ringing. Suddenly, she lunges out and wrestles the phone from my hands, pressing talk against my will.

"Hello… oh, hi, Volkner!" she starts casually over the receiver. "Yes… yes, this is Gardenia. No, you didn't call the wrong number. This is Roark's Xtranceiver. Uh-huh… yeah, actually, he's sitting in front of me right now. I think he'll finally talk to you." She smirks triumphantly and holds the phone out. I grab it away from her and scowl. On the other end, I hear Volkner take a nervous breath.

I hang up and throw the Xtranceiver across the room.

Gardenia's jaw hangs loose and she shakes her head in disbelief. "Seriously? _Seriously?" _Her tone is distressed, now, and she folds her arms, curling her lip in disapproval. "That was a major dick move. And the Golden Dick Award goes to Roark for his astounding achievement in douchery!"

"None of your business!" I snap. I rise and fold my arms as well, challenging her. "You don't even know Volkner that well! Why the hell do you care what happened?"

"Sinnoh's League is more tight-knit than you think! Okay, then, look at it this way: it's not for Volkner's sake, it's for yours!" She beans me on the head. "If you want to know, I saw Flint at the PWT, and he was all like…" She puffs her hair, trying to imitate his Afro, "'Yo, Gardenia, you live close to Roark, right? Volkner's being all emo again because he's not returning any of his calls. Go on over to Oreburgh and see what's up, 'kay?' And I was wondering why my normally nice and sweet friend was being a douche. No friend of mine is allowed to be a douche!"

"I can take care of my own problems," I hiss. By now she's surpassed the point of being just annoying to outstaying her welcome.

Gardenia's hands move to her hips and her voice rises, dropping all pretenses of fake cheer. "Oh, really? You think you can, now do you? You think you can solve your own problems when these days all you're doing is staying at home? I've heard how much you're losing, lately. You haven't made the effort to even call anybody, everybody thinks you're dead, and you look like a complete wreck. See? Even Rampardos is worried about you!" She gestures to Rampardos, his head cocked and eyes full of concern.

"Rampa…" he gargles.

Gardenia takes a deep breath and sits back down, massaging her temples. "Look, did you guys have a fight or something? What happened?"

"Nothing happened!"

Like she's going to buy that.

"Look, I've just been really busy lately, okay?"

"So you can't talk to your friend for five minutes…" She moves to the bed and picks up a letter. My eyes widen. "But you can write all these letters? Who's this person you're so obsessed with?" She turns the letter over so I can see some blue text. "Is this Riley poisoning your mind or something?"

That's the last straw.

I lunge toward her and rip the letter from her hands, bearing my teeth. I get between the bed and her and snarl, "Don't you dare talk about him that way… And don't you read another word!"

"Whoa." Her expression shifts from frustration and concern to slight fear. She puts her hands up in surrender. "You're acting so weird lately, Roarkie." Her voice trembles.

No. Don't cry.

"Hey." I fix my tone as much as possible and let my stance relax. "I'm sorry. You're right. I'm being a weird jerk. And I am a douche. I gladly accept the Golden Dick Award. I would like to thank the Academy."

"Oh, come on," she says after a bit, regaining her composure. "You're not normally a douche. I'm not mad at you," and her voice calms down as well. "I mean, you didn't do anything to me, and it probably was wrong of me to pry. But I'm just trying to look out for you. I don't know what happened between you and Volkner, but the only way you're ever going to make it any better is if you talk to him."

She doesn't know what she's talking about, but I've already been a complete little shit tonight. I just nod and tell her what she wants to hear. "You win this round, Gardenia. I'll call him sometime, I promise. It's just that…" My hands ball into fists and I break eye contact with her. "I can't face him right now." My volume quiets down several notches, and then she knows.

"Oh…" she starts out nervously. "Did Volkner… do something to you?"

I nod again. Sate her curiosity, but be vague.

"He did something bad to you, didn't he? I can see it in your eyes."

Well. Sort of. It's a difficult situation. I don't give her an answer either way. I just stand there. I kind of want to tell her what happened, but even I can't face the truth. I don't even feel secure telling Riley.

"He's not the whole problem," I continue honestly. "These last few months have gone down pretty badly for me."

"That bad, huh? You wanna talk about it?"

I shake my head. "No, I'll be okay."

"Is your hand giving you trouble?"

I nod and flash my scarred right hand at her. Three months ago I was in a mining accident that left me with a pickaxe splintering the bone where it stabbed me. The doctors said I was lucky to have a hand at all after that ordeal, much luckier to have had it fully recover, but there's a constant aching in it now. Still, it's humiliating that the mine safety supervisor couldn't even protect himself.

"Yeah, that sucks. Take some painkillers or something. Well…" Gardenia pauses thoughtfully. "Getting back to Volkner, I think that if he's calling you so much, then he really wants to apologize. Give him a second chance, okay? I know how stubborn you can be, Roarkie." She forces a smile and ruffles my hair.

If he wants to apologize so much, he can damn well say it to my face, but I don't want to worry her anymore, so I smile as well.

"All right, I'll see what I can do."

"That's the spirit!" She pumps her fist. "Anyway, I'm sleepy. I'd better be getting home now. Also, are you mad at me?"

"No."

And that's the truth. I'm really not mad at her anymore. I feel more tired than anything else.

"Good!" She smiles.

"And thanks for the food."

"No problem, junkfood-ivore! You get out more often now, okay, and come see me sometime! And don't get too obsessed with your new boyfriend."

"Ha-ha, screw you. Riley's just my Dad's friend and my old babysitter. He insists on writing letters because he's old-fashioned as hell and refuses to let me grow up. Fine, I'll come to Eterna sometime soon."

"I've got you trained so well." She winks at me and runs off, calling over her shoulder as she descends the steps. "And you'd better keep your promises or I'll have to humiliate you in a Pokémon battle again!"

"Except I'll win!"

With that, I slam the door shut and breathe a sigh of relief. That's enough excitement for one night. Rampardos, sensing that we've made up, curls back up on the couch. Now that I'm alone, I walk to my bed, grab my pen, and pick up where I left off.

It is quiet here in Oreburgh. Below the sooty skies, all is calm.

Pelipper's mail delivery is the height of my day.

**As a final word of note, I'm brand new to this fandom (only been playing the games a few months, oi), so if you see any inaccuracies here, please don't hesitate to point 'em out! I know I took some... uh, liberties with Gardenia, but the only thing I've ever been able to gauge out of her personality from canon sources is that she really, _really _digs plants. I like to imagine her as the meddling and energetic, yet true sort of friend. Merci for reading, and adieu! **


	2. A Businessman Who Hates Business

**Two updates? In one month? _What is this madness? _****Now have some Riley.**

**Tsunayoshi Una Sawada: Thank you so much for the review! I actually do enjoy me a bit of Steelfedorashipping every so often myself... and guess who has a major role in this story?**

Chapter 2: A Businessman Who Hates Business

Riley

I really like to sleep.

Most of us do, so it's no great revelation or anything, but I still hold on to my position.

I really like to wander around.

And then I like to sleep.

(Even though I haven't been sleeping much lately.)

But when it's the end of a hard day of battling, of having people yell at you for things that may or may not have been your fault, and traipsing through undergrowth where wild Pokémon leap out at you without notice, it's very nice to relax in an isolated area of the Battle Area where you can enjoy a nice supper with your best friend.

Those who congregate here—mainly gym leaders and fellow stat trainers who also work at the Battle Tower—do it for social interaction. The air is hot and humid here, choked with ash from Stark Mountain not so far away, and the place is little more than a poorly lit shanty-shack with nothing more to offer than a hastily marked battle field scratched in the dirt and a flickering TV constantly spouting its commercial tripe, but it offers a strange sense of peace and welcoming.

The not-so-aptly-named Survival Area is the sort of place only a truly Bohemian soul could appreciate. Compared to the flashiness of the rest of the island, this sleepy little place, tucked away in the heart of the jungle across the bluffs that make up the rough terrain, is a hidden gem.

This club is also kind of a restaurant. A fellow stat trainer at the Tower and little brother of the Elite Four member named Flint, Buck, has his grandfather cook for us and hosts private battles for only the greatest trainers in Sinnoh.

That being said, I have no idea why I'm allowed here.

I specifically told Byron that there were to be no battles today. I'm due on my ship in forty-five minutes and I don't need any delays. It's that time of year again where I have to abandon being a trainer and put on my businessman suit. It's inspection time at Canalave Industrial and it's my duty to orchestrate it.

Normally the idea of having to do it is enough to make me want to shoot myself, but this season I anticipate interesting things to happen.

That is, if Steven's right.

Across from me, Byron sits, a mug of beer clenched in his hand. He's a big guy, and his odd beard and cape makes him look downright intimidating. The fact he looks like this and is also a Steel-Type trainer makes me think of the god from the olden days, Thor, with his mighty hammer. Or maybe he reminds me of a Viking. Byron probably has some Viking blood in him. He'd be fearsome if I didn't already know he's really just some fossil-loving nerd who completely dedicates himself to raising his beloved son properly.

My faithful Lucario sits next to me. He taps the wooden table with a heavy paw impatiently. Finally, the red irises of his eyes slit and he sends me a thought.

_This is boring._

Byron often chides me for treating my Pokémon like it's people. What he doesn't understand is that Lucario are prideful creatures, which expect utmost respect and can understand the language of man beyond simple battle commands. A few, particularly amongst users of Aura, can even communicate telepathically with their trainers. Lucario and I share such a bond.

Aura is, to put it simply, the essence of all living things. It's a rather abstract concept, but think of it like reading sound waves, except these sound waves telegraph such things as how pure of heart a person is, or how one is feeling, and sometimes, even what one is thinking. All Lucario and a handful of other Pokémon are capable of feeling it—but only the exceedingly rare human is hypersensitive enough to it to see it manifest normally as a bluish-green energy rippling from a living being… and even fewer are able to use and manipulate it at will.

I'm one of these few people. Colloquially, we're called Aura Users, and if we're feeling particularly on our high horses, Aura Guardians.

But that's not important at the moment, and perhaps that's far too long of an explanation as to why I can talk to my Pokémon.

_Be still, my friend, _I tell Lucario. _We'll be on the ship soon._

_You humans are unexciting creatures. When will I get to battle again?_

_There will be other trainers on the ship, probably. Do me a favor and stay put for now, or else I'll send you back to your Poke Ball just to stop your ceaseless complaining._

"Lucarrrrrr…" Lucario mutters his displeasure through pursed lips, but he quiets.

"You all right, Riley?" asks Byron.

"Huh?" I switch back to the audible world and nod. "I'm just thinking, is all."

Byron sighs and takes another swig of beer. "Don't get too lost in those thoughts of yours. Your Xtranceiver is ringing off the hook, and it's bloody annoying."

At last I'm alerted to the presence of it, and I fish it out of my pocket, flipping it open to read the caller ID.

Steven.

"Mind if I get this?"

"Not at all." Byron drinks some more, and takes a bite of his sandwich. "I'm kind of shocked that old-fashioned Riley Fannin is finally using technology, though."

I roll my eyes at him and press talk. "I'm having dinner," I tell Steven, somewhat annoyed, but what he tells me next freezes me cold. "Oh? There's been a sighting? Heading toward Sinnoh, really? Well, I have to check up on the mines in Hoenn anyway, so maybe I can see you. Maybe I'll bring you one of those rocks you like so much. I have to finish eating now. Got to be across Sinnoh by tomorrow. Bye."

I hang up and Byron looks at me quizzically.

"Who's that?" he asks.

"Friend from Hoenn. I think you'd like him. Steel-Type master. He likes digging and excavating to an unhealthy obsession." I laugh.

"You can never dig enough, Riley! What were you talking about just now?"

"Oh. Nothing. Just a Pokémon I hope to find."

"All right." He finishes off his beer. I still have a half-full glass of sherry clutched in one hand. Lucario nudges me with his foot. "Is he also a miner? Is he the one you're asking to accompany you on the safety checks this year?"

"Oh, no." I laugh and passively wave the suggestion aside. "He's not a miner. Merely a hobbyist. Besides, he works for Devon Corp."

"So have you finally learned about mine safety so you can do it on your own this year?"

"Don't have that much faith in me, Byron!" I take a swig of sherry. It's my third glass of the night. By now I wouldn't be surprised if I'm a little tipsy. "I still don't know a thing about it. Mining bores me to tears!"

"I take offense at that!" He punches my arm playfully. "Odd thing for you to say considering your line of business."

"Well, there's money in it." I grapple for my own sandwich, but I miss it, and then I realize I really am drunk. "Might as well keep the family business alive."

"Why don't you just send another inspector then?"

"Well, look at it this way, Byron." I signal Buck's grandfather over to refill my glass. "If you were in my position, what would you rather do—travel around the country and make friends and experience new things, or stay cooped up in an office all day? And I might as well put that law degree to use and show the old Five-O I know what I'm doing."

Byron chuckles. "Hah! Typical Riley! Can't sit still for five minutes! Who's going to take your place at the Battle Tower? You can't just up and leave!"

"The arrangements have been made. I'm going to turn Lucas loose for the position and see how he does. I really would miss my yearly trip around Sinnoh and Hoenn; sunny, tropical Hoenn! This year I'm also going to be visiting Unova to see if I can expand the business there."

"Unova? Fancy."

_Speaking of boring to tears, you are boring me to tears._

_ Fifteen minutes, _I mentally snap at Lucario.

"It's not all fun and games, Byron! I've busted some serious human rights violations in my own mines throughout the years."

"And nobody ever recognizes you?"

"You know I keep a low profile. I think you'd be pleased to learn, however, that your son earned the highest approval rating from his employees and his mine proved to be most efficiently and safely run last year."

"I wouldn't expect any less of that kid!" Byron's eyes twinkle and he finishes his food. "And you gave him a nice little bonus for it, too. Got himself an apartment for his eighteenth birthday with that money, he did. Living independently will serve that boy well, I think."

"Oh my… so he's living on his own, now? It seems just yesterday I was trying to drag little Roarkie into the bathtub after a long day of playing in the dirt."

That's one little detail Roark didn't divulge in his letters. I have his most recent one in my back pocket. The others are in my briefcase. Tomorrow he will get no reply from me, but there won't be any need for it.

"Yeah, they grow up fast. Too fast, if you ask me… but don't tell him I said that! Truth be told, though," and his expression morphs into a frown, "I'm kind of worried about him. When he was last here a few months ago he left without warning. Said he had work, but he seemed kind of mad at me. He isn't calling me, either, unless I call him first. It seems like he tries his hardest to keep our conversations as short as possible. I also heard from Gardenia—his friend from Eterna City—he's been skimping out on his battle skills."

"Oh dear." I try to make myself sound surprised. Byron doesn't know about our letters, and he doesn't have to.

"Sometimes I think…" He gives a long sigh. "I think he's not taking the divorce as well as I thought."

"Well, he has every right to be upset."

"But that kid… He's really sensitive, you know, but he keeps his emotions bottled up all the time. I mean, I didn't know until years later that he was hurt when I moved to Canalave."

"We all keep a lot of secrets bottled up inside." I finish my umpteenth sherry. "But he's resilient. He sinks sometimes, but when he does he kicks like hell to get back up to the surface again."

"That's true."

"Plus, many families go through divorce. He'll understand eventually that what you and your ex did really was for the good of all of you in the end. He's smart, and mature in many respects, but has some growing up to do in others. If you ask me, it sounds like he's getting kind of bored."

"Eh?"

"Bored." I lift the glass up to my lips, forgetting that it's empty now. "He's eighteen years old and stuck in a mining town with no way to have fun. In between working in the mines and leading a regimen of scheduled gym battles, I'm sure he's getting depressed and stir-crazy. I mean, look, his idea of fun is going to the _museum_, but I'm sure he's memorized every word on every placard in Oreburgh's by now. And that's why I'm asking him to accompany me on inspections this season."

"You're _what_?" He smacks down his beer mug and nearly chokes on his own spit.

"Did I mince my words?" I raise an eyebrow, but he probably can't see it through my hat. "What, did you want to go? Um, no offense, Byron, but I offered the job to you two years ago and you declined. Besides, he's perfect for the job. A bright young mind, experienced in what he's doing, with every reason in the world to get out of Oreburgh."

"You so sure about that? The kid's a workaholic."

"He inherited that from you, you know. I'm sure he'll accept."

"What makes you think that?"

My eyes blaze and I give him a sly smile. "He will accept. He really likes me."

"L-Lucar!" Lucario suddenly sputters out, clapping a spiky paw to his banded muzzle. In Lucario language, that translates roughly to "giggle-snort." _That's an understatement._

_ Hush!_

_ You have not finished your food, _he telegraphs out of the blue. _If you are not going to eat it, give it to me._

I'm not very hungry, so I push the plate to him. Lucario squeals delightedly and digs in.

"Teach that thing some table manners," says Byron.

"You can lead a Rapidash to water," I reply. "Well, how about it, Byron? Don't you want him to see the world? Maybe he can win a few gym badges from leagues in other regions and he can use them to laugh in his colleagues' faces. And I'm sure I could teach him a thing or two about Pokémon battling."

"You're an attack-based trainer, Roark's an attack-based trainer. What could you possibly teach him?"

"Remember! I have my roots in defensive Steel-Types! Well, what do you say, Byron? Can you trust me with your son?" I chuckle. "Think back to when you were his age. Wouldn't you want to have a little fun before you're too old to walk anymore?"

Byron pauses, then nods. "Well, you haven't gotten him killed yet…"

"Oh my, such high praise."

"And besides, he's old enough to be making his own decisions now." He gives a wan smile. "You be his mentor now, and make a man out of him. But don't be so confident that he'll say yes."

"Oh, he will."

"Want to make a bet of that?"

"Sure. Whoever loses has to pay the cost of this dinner."

_Has it been fifteen minutes yet?_

I look down at my watch, and Lucario's right. "Eh, Byron, I have to get out now. It was nice having dinner. Here." I open up my wallet and thrust a few wads of cash at him. "This ought to cover the bill."

"What? No! I'll pay!"

"No need for that. I'll see you as soon as possible. Besides, I'll be getting that money back soon once Roarkie accepts!"

"Don't count on that!"

I laugh and tip my hat to him, stumbling out the door. Lucario happily gets up and bounds after me. Across Route 225 I go, a can of Max Repellent in my hand to avoid wild Pokémon. At last I make it to the pier, the main hub of the island. The ferry is already boarding, but my fellow stat trainers and employees at the Battle Tower are at the dock to wish me goodbye.

"Bye-bye!" wishes young Mira, the special attack trainer, waving happily to me.

"Goodbye," says the speed specialist, Marley, without much feeling. She doesn't talk much, but I feel her well wishes in her Aura.

"Oh!" Cheryl, the HP and healing specialist, runs up to me with a pot clutched under her arm. She's the only one here close to my age, and she trips, but rights herself, cheeks flushed red. "Mothim found this honey just for you! Be sure to share it with your Pokémon, okay? They've been very good for you! It's been nice having you around. You ought to join us again once you're off work."

_You'd better share that with me, _mumbles Lucario, _after all, I had to put up with your boring talk all day._

_ There'll be none for you if you act so entitled! In fact, _I tease him, _I think I'll share it with the rest of the team but you. At least Absol never complains. Maybe I'll give it all to her._

_ You think you're amusing!?_

"They'll all get their share," I promise Cheryl.

Next up is aforementioned Buck, who uses defensive Types.

"Pimps Lucariohat, my man!" he decries. "Leaving us already? That breaks my little heart. Well, you'd better come back again so I can smoke you in a battle! Yeah!"

"You'd better train hard then." I smirk, teasing him like I teased Lucario before. "Because I'll just come back even tougher!"

"You won't see me coming from a mile away!"

Finally, Lucas says his goodbyes.

"See you later, Mr. Fannin! I promise I'll work hard in your place!"

"Mr. Fannin was my father; just 'Riley' will suffice! And I'm sure you will." I beam at him. "You've met and exceeded my expectations, young man. I don't think there's much left I can teach you, truth be told! You ought to go study with Cynthia or something. But now the time comes where I'm going to be taking on a new student."

"Oh, and thanks for the Riolu egg you gave me on Iron Island."

"No, no, thank _you. _I'm all Riolu'd out. A certain _someone _keeps showing up holding eggs."

I give Lucario a look. He stares back at me, long and hard, and says:

_At least I get some._

I laugh, confusing everyone in the vicinity.

"Aha, well," I sputter, trying to explain myself, "I'd better get going. Thanks for everything." I bid them one last farewell and rush Lucario onto the ship. An attendant directs me to my cabin, and immediately I flop down on the bed, still a little drunk from my dinner with Byron. My luggage has already been brought in, and I rise once more, unlocking my briefcase.

There are no clothes or Poke Balls inside. Instead, there are books and papers. Magazine clippings, newspaper articles, old books almost forgotten to time had it not been for one man's arcane interests…

A smile etches its way across my face as I go through the clippings.

It's not a happy smile.

All the headlines are seemingly unrelated:

TIPS FOR CATCHING LEGENDARY POKEMON

LENTIMAS TOWN, UNOVA: TRAGEDY STRIKES, GIRL MURDERED

SOOTOPOLIS, HOENN: TRAINER, 10 YRS OLD MISSING

PSYCHOLOGY—ATTEMPTING TO UNDERSTAND LOVE OBJECTIVELY

YOU DESERVE A GOOD NIGHT'S SLEEP. WARD OFF NIGHTMARES IN FIVE EASY STEPS

CANALAVE CITY, SINNOH: ROCKSLIDE ON IRON ISLAND. 1 DEAD 1 INJURED

_Riley, you make my head spin…_

Oh, wait, that's not an article. Strange, I thought I had the letter in my back pocket.

No matter.

I chose Roarkie because he's experienced with mine safety and deserves a life beyond work.

I also chose Roarkie because he's inexperienced in love and his emotions are blinding his better judgment.

I have him right where I want him.

All I have to do is get him to accept, and then everything will come into place.

This plan is perfect.

Roarkie is perfect.

Everything is going to be perfect.

**AWWWWWWW SNAP, RILEY. WHAT ARE YOU PLANNING, _MAN_?**

**Anyway, lest MSHA have my head, have a disclaimer on my lack of mining expertise tomfoolery. According to the Coal Act of 1969, at least two annual inspections are required for surface coal mines, and four for underground ones, which is where Roark works-and usually, the government does that itself. There are similar regulations in many other non-USA countries as well! That being said, if this took place in mind of an accurate portrayal of the modern coal industry, Riley's operation would technically be illegal as hell, and he could expect to pay up a hefty fine or even see the inside of a jail cell! However, this being the Pokemon universe, where animals can be uploaded into computers and ten-year-olds are allowed to run rampant and unsupervised through the harsh wilderness, it can probably be safely ascertained that... standards here are a bit different. The moar you know!**


	3. The Eccentric At The Door

**Tsunayoshi Uni Sawada: Pimps Lucariohat is now his real name. And my apologies! Hopefully I got it right this time. ;) Steven's just so shippable. Thanks again for the review! I'm inclined to agree that this chapter wasn't as good as the first, but I think Riley's next one will make up for it... hopefully, orz. Ahahaha... as for what Riley's planning, think less "yaoi fun times" and more "holy crap." But there will be yaoi fun times, and plenty of it! **

**NinjaGirlRebecca: Yes, this is going to be very fun if how much I'm enjoying writing it is any indication! Thanks!**

**Razeasha: Thanks for the kind words! Well, here's the promised update, and I'm glad the disclaimer amused you.**

* * *

Chapter 3: The Eccentric at the Door

Roark

I had that nightmare again.

No, not the one with the girl and the Abra. The one where I'm alone in the mine. Or, at least I think I am.

When the alarm clock shrieks I consider it a blessing. My eyes creak open and they're red and swollen from lack of sleep. I'm sweating all over, and I lift my body just enough so that I can see the time on the clock. Four a.m., it flashes. I went to bed at two.

It used to be that I forced myself to become an early bird out of necessity for my job. Nowadays every moment I am awake comes as a piece of good fortune. Gardenia tells me to get some sleep, but when I do manage to somehow get a full night's rest, I just end up more tired than I was before I went to bed.

My movements are sluggish and hollow, but I turn off the alarm and flip on the lights, and I rise. I peer through the blinds. The sun isn't even up yet, and not another light shines through the windows of the neighboring buildings. Oreburgh is so dead at night.

This is the hour when I am the only person on the face of the Earth. In this hour I am not Roark "The Rock" Pierrot, beloved Gym Leader and pride of the city, but just another shadow.

I have a few other nicknames. The people here call me "Oreburgh's Diamond in the Rough." Sure, all Gym Leaders take on flashy titles as part of the job, like how Gardenia is known as the "Master of Vivid Plant Pokémon," and my Dad, at his gym in Canalave City, took on the name "The Man With the Steel Body." It sounds arrogant as hell, and that's because it is. But it's tradition. I like to tell people that "Oreburgh's Diamond in the Rough" is too nice for me, and I'm really more just a piece of glorified coal. Besides, coal is more useful than diamonds. Hence why I call myself a rock even though I am obviously not a rock.

The other Gym Leaders have a pet name for me that they call me behind my back: "Sinnoh's Sweetheart."

Yep.

Seriously.

It's something you'd think they'd call a cute girl, not a male who earns his keep by toiling through the piss awful heat and grime of heavy industry. Maybe it would fit somebody like Candice, Snowpoint's Leader, better, but here I am, saddled with it instead.

But none of that matters this early in the morning. I don't have to be a role model, I don't have to be a diamond or a sweetheart or even a lump of coal. I can just focus on myself.

I strip until I'm in nothing but my boxer shorts and glasses. I walk to the place in my apartment with the most room, near the couch and the TV, and open up the closet. Stuffed inside is a punching bag, a professional kind that you'd find in a gym, except for the fact it's been torn up and beaten to rags. If people ask, I just tell them that I bought it for exercise and Rampardos took a shine to it as a plaything.

The truth is I'm the one who savaged it so hard in only the course of a few months. When it came, it was perfect and beautiful, and now I'm seeing need for a new one again.

Maybe that's the reason I'm Maylene's favorite student. Maylene is the Gym Leader of Veilstone City, but she's also a professional kick boxer. She teaches classes as a sensei, and I signed up. Maylene's a really fantastic Fighting-Type Pokémon trainer as well. I know she doesn't think that highly of my own skill, but I appreciate that she can at least tell me that to my face. Even though she tells me this, we still get along pretty well, and despite her penchant for violent sports, she's actually a very thoughtful and reasonable lady.

When she asked me why I was so interested in martial arts all of a sudden, I told her that there was increased crime in my neighborhood lately. When she asked me why I requested her to keep our lessons a secret, I told her it was to maintain my peace-loving image.

Which is only half true, but she doesn't need to know the full story.

My agenda is none of her business.

She doesn't know that I'm doing this for self-preservation. She doesn't know about the revolver I bought due to _that _incident. She doesn't know I decided to forego Pokémon training in order to brace myself, because she doesn't know that some people aren't willing to use animals to solve their problems, that some people just want to hurt other people and aim straight for the throat.

It was due to this primal realization I learned the hard way that I fought so viciously, and it was that I fought so viciously that I finally gained her respect. I am of a small frame, but I strike fast and hard with my strong legs and arms, honed from years of heavy labor.

"Wow, Roark," she told me, "you're really talented! If you practice every day, I think you can become a champion!"

So I did.

Practice, that is.

I start with jabs, crosses, and hooks. Uppercuts and back fists, cross-counters and overhands. Then come the front kicks, side kicks, and sweeps. My favorite moves are the axe kick and the stomp kick, so I practice those next. Finally I practice combinations, and my attacks get crueler and come down harder as I go on. My bare fists burn with pain as I land yet another punch and my body tingles from a lack of air. Maylene tells me to take breaks and wear protective boxing gloves, but I don't.

Breaks show weakness and boxing gloves just slow me down.

Sweat drips from my body and I feel angry and powerful and alive. I feel like nothing can take me down and that I'm the emperor of the world. I'm my own best weapon. I can command myself better than I can any Pokémon. I'm so lost in my violent dance that I give a scream and one last punch, a deft, sharp one, that rips right through the punching bag's material and encases my hand in soft stuffing.

I pull my hand out, and it falls over.

I calm down a bit, and then I take out the thing I was saving for a special occasion. A wooden board. I position it on top of the table, and I throw one last punch. I feel some pain and see a flash of red as the board splinters around me, and as I pull away, I see I have a few minor cuts. Both my hands are hurting now, my right from my mining accident, my left from finally being able to break the board.

And I don't even care, because my god, I've done it. I've broken it. I'm strong enough now. Not as strong as I'd like to be, since I swear to Arceus I'm going to be able to punch through concrete someday, but strong enough.

I've done it.

Sinnoh's Sweetheart my ass.

It takes me a few minutes to come down from my natural high, but when I do, I'm trembling, not out of fear or cowardice, or how I feel when I write to Riley, but because I'm so overwhelmed with how wonderful it is to have this sort of power.

I look at the clock again. Five a.m.

I've been exercising nonstop the past hour, and the sun is finally beginning to rise. I notice how my muscles really are aching, now, so I take a hot shower.

At five twenty, Rampardos is up and about and he's head butting the shower stall door, begging for his breakfast.

At five thirty, I've fed him the rest of the poffins and salad, and I have coffee on.

At five forty-five, I've barely changed into a new pair of underwear and am brushing my teeth when I hear a knock at the door.

I throw the brush in the sink and spit out the toothpaste gunk from my mouth, wondering what kind of psychopath goes knocking on doors so early in the morning. Maybe Gardenia, but she hates getting up in the morning, so I deduce it's probably a salesperson or something. It could be something worse, but I have my revolver ten feet away if that's the case.

I'm ready this time.

With my hair still drenched and a towel slung across my neck, I answer the door, ready to yell that I'm not interested in buying any product and please go away forever.

When I see who it is, my words get garbled in my throat and I just stand there stupidly, mouth agape.

It's Riley.

Well, it looks like Riley, but weirder.

The Riley Fannin I'm familiar with is a man who wears ties and white dress shirts. He looks like the businessman he is. This Riley Fannin has thrown conformity to the wind, what with his tailored blue smoking jacket and brown trousers and black loafers. He has a sable turtleneck paired with the jacket, and he's wearing some weird… blue… fedora. I guess he's trying to make himself look like a Lucario, but he looks more like a Honchkrow in my opinion. The thing that tips me off that it's really him is that familiar gold necklace he wears slung across his neck, fashioned in the symbol of the legendary Pokémon Groudon. I've never asked him about it.

He still has the spiky raven hair that juts out in all directions, and the tall, lean frame that towers over me. He has those same blue eyes that twinkle out slyly in his handsome face. He's a walking fashion faux pas, but he makes it work. He looks quirky but hella sharp, and he doesn't seem to have aged since I last saw him.

I'm about to make a joke about how his hat makes him look kind of like a pimp, but then I figure that if he's dressed this flashily he's finally reached that point in his life where he's stopped giving a shit about what others think, so I keep quiet.

"Lucar," barks his Lucario, and Riley steps toward me, giving a warm smile.

"I've missed you, Roarkie," he says in that soft-spoken demeanor of his.

I just stand there like an idiot, the words snuffed out of me. My heart is pounding even harder than it was at my exercise session this morning and my knees are knocking together. I know I'm blushing but I can't avert my eyes from his gaze. Finally I just settle on collapsing into him and embracing him. "R-Riley," I stutter at last, my tongue freed somewhat.

"Of course it's me, silly," he chides, but he hugs me back. "You've really grown up since I last saw you."

"I… uh…" By now I've realized I've been holding on for too long, and I break away awkwardly. "Uh, coffee."

"What about it?"

"I'm making coffee!" I blurt out, flustered. "Do you want some?"

_Smooth, _I think.

"That would be wonderful," he says, giving me another smile.

"Guh…" It would've been easier for me if he'd called me out on my awkwardness right then and there. "You can… come in and stuff."

"Can I? Are you sure? Aren't you due for work soon?"

"Oh, no, no!" I stutter, practically pulling him inside by the arm. "I'm due at seven thirty, ahaha. Make yourself at home and… oh, no!" Of course my place is a mess the day Riley decides to come over. "I'm so sorry! I would've cleaned up had I known…"

"Relax, Roarkie. Who do you think I am… your father?" He laughs. His Lucario runs in like he owns the damn place and steals Rampardos' couch. Riley joins him. "Besides, it's my fault. I was supposed to get in tonight, but I guess I underestimated how fast my Salamence can fly. I would've gone out to breakfast, but you know how dead Oreburgh is in the early hours."

"It's fine," I answer. "I'm really just kind of… confused? I mean, I'm happy to see you and all…" I take the coffee pot and try to pour two cups. My hands are shaking so much it takes all my willpower not to spill some on me. "But why are you… you know… here?" I hand him a cup. "It's hot," I warn him. "Oh, where are my manners…? This is so embarrassing. You can turn on the TV if you want. I don't have cable though." I'm doing a million things at once as I try to balance catering to Riley and slinging on my work clothes as fast as possible.

"Again, just relax. I suppose I owe you some explanation." He takes a sip of his drink, slinging his feet up on the coffee table. If it was anybody else, I would've told him or her to knock it out, but I'm transfixed by his presence. He takes his feet off on his own accord, anyway, after remembering it's not his place. "I told you in my letter you'd see me again very soon, right?"

"I didn't think you meant that literally…"

Riley chuckles again. "I expect you wouldn't have. Here, let me show you what's going on."

I've been so focused on him that I completely missed the briefcase he came in with. He summons a key from his pocket and unlocks it, pulling out a bunch of papers. He snaps it shut as soon as I lean in for a closer look, denying me from seeing the rest of its contents.

"Ah! Here we are! Regard page three, section A."

He hands me a big packet, and I flip to where he wants me to go. Even with my glasses on I have to squint at the small print on the document. It's a whole bunch of legalese, rambling on forever until the end of time.

"What's this?"

"A contract."

"Why?" I could've worded that more gracefully, but by now I'm nonplussed and nervous around him. Funny, I never used to be.

"You know what time of year it is, Roark?"

I search my mental reservoir for any possible event that could be happening, until I settle on one thing. "Mine safety inspections."

"Correct! You've always been a smart one!" He beams. "As you know, I like to go around visiting for myself, but I need someone who knows what he's doing to accompany me. Considering your line of work and how well you did last year… and what you said in your letters, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to be my guide this year?" He takes another sip of coffee like he's just commented on the weather, but I'm staring at him like he's sprouted wings and tentacles from his nose.

"You want me to what?"

"Accompany me."

"But… I have two jobs, one of them being a Gym Leader, and…"

"You have alternate supervisors, don't you?"

"Well, yeah, but not alternate Gym Leaders…"

"But Gym Leaders take breaks all the time."

"But I get the most challengers…"

"What if I found you a substitute Gym Leader?"

"What?"

"If I found you a substitute, would you go with me? The contract is only for a few months."  
"Well, when you put it that way… But who would…?"

"I can think of a few," he replies right away, "Buck is excellent with Ground-Types, so I'm sure him making the transition to Rock-Types wouldn't be that hard. Professor Rowan's assistant from Sandgem is also a pretty good trainer. Besides, Sandgem isn't that far from Oreburgh so she could make the commute."

"Her name is Dawn. She has all the badges. She could…"

"And finally," Riley continues, "Palmer, an excellent Frontier Brain I had the pleasure of working with, recommended his son."

"Kind of like my Dad, if my Dad had actually recommended me."

"Aha! Well! His name is… Bart or… Barney… or something like that."

"Barry?"

"Yes! That's it!"

I know Barry quite well. He's this annoying little kid with boundless energy. Two years ago, he kept challenging me over and over again and losing. The thing is, he never gave up, and he finally beat me on the thirtieth time or so, earning himself the Coal Badge. When I was at the Battle Island last, he kept hanging outside the Survival Area asking for Pokémon fights with anyone and anything. He's hyperactive and impatient, but at the same time he's tenacious and means well, so I just can't dislike him.

That doesn't mean he's ready for a gym, though. If my Dad thought I wasn't ready at fourteen, he sure as hell isn't at twelve.

"He's gotten much stronger," Riley asserts.

I go through all the choices he presented me. Buck is clearly the best choice here. He's almost as good a trainer as his brother and a fantastic sport. But getting Buck to come over to Oreburgh would mean having to fraternize with Flint, and Flint would probably—no, most definitely—force me to talk with Volkner.

And talking with Volkner is most certainly not something I want to do right now.

Dawn it is.

"Dawn or bust," I tell Riley.

"Oh my!" he chuckles. "You have your priorities, Roark! Very well; I'll see what I can arrange with her and Professor Rowan."

I put on a tough front, but secretly I want to go with him. The truth is, I need to get out of Oreburgh, but I'm bound by duty. After _that _happened, the place became just a bit more frightening, just a bit more cold. If Arceus is kind, then Dawn will come.

"And of course, there will be compensation for you. Flip to page twelve, and read under where it says 'salary.'"

I casually do as told, but give a small scream when I see the sum outlined for me. "H-Holy crap!" Pardon my French, but _oh my fucking god. _"Riley, how much money do you have again?" I read in between the lines, and I can't find anything. If I were to accept… I would be able to invest in the banks and the stock market, and pay off many of my medical bills, and fix the utilities in my apartment, and buy things like insurance, and get new equipment for the mine, and maybe, just maybe—maybe I could go back to school again! My head is swimming with the things I could do with his offer.

"Well, it's technically the corporation's money," Riley answers.

"You seem pretty adamant on taking me," I say after a bit, throwing my lukewarm coffee in the sink and washing the cup out. I'm not really interested in it, but I make a show of pretending to be preoccupied with washing the dishes to seem casual, but on the inside my mind and heart is racing. "Why is that?"

Riley shrugs. "I thought I told you this. It's because you are my precious friend. You wanted to hear my voice, and I wanted to hear yours. Is that not reason enough?"

I'm so jittery I'm about to drop this cup, so I put it in the pantry without drying it. It doesn't help that Rampardos is nudging me, either, no doubt confused by the strange man and Lucario taking up residence on what he claimed as his territory. "That's… a very nice reason," I answer lamely. "I hope that's the truth."

"It is. By the way, Roarkie, what's your Pokémon team look like?"

Classic Riley.

He brings up trivial things at random times, but I'm grateful for the diversion from the awkward conversation.

"Well," I say after a beat. "I actually don't have a full team right now. I, uh, have Rampardos, of course, and an Aerodactyl. It's pretty fast." Nope. Still awkward. "And Graveler and Onix."

"Didn't you have a Probopass?"

"Had. Lent it to some of the scientists at the museum for research."

"It's good you have a Flying-Type."

"Are you trying to turn me into a diversity trainer again?"

Riley laughs and sets down his cup. "Maybe."

"Remember, this meeting is for business, not talking about Pokémon battles."

"Eh? Coming out of your mouth? How cold, Roarkie! Maybe you should be the president of Canalave Industrial instead of me."

"Tell me about your 'outstanding' team, then," I snap, indignant. "Let me guess—Lucario, Riolu, Riolu, Riolu, Riolu, and Riolu." I'm finally starting to feel more comfortable around him. Thing is, when I'm comfortable around someone, I get a little ornery. Riley doesn't seem to mind though as he answers my question without hesitation.

"Hah! You seem to think I'm a Lucario maniac!"

"It's the only one I've ever seen you around with."

"I'm not just a crazy Lucario person, Roark," he continues with a grin. "At the moment, I also have an Absol, a Gallade, a Salamence, a Garchomp, and Breloom."

Okay, that's… a little heavy on Dragon and Fighting-Types, but pretty good actually.

I should've expected as much from him. Riley's classified as an Elite Trainer. He has all the Sinnoh gym badges and a few from Hoenn and Johto as well. He almost became the League Champion when he was younger, but gave it up to take on the family business, apparently. That's what he told me when I was little. And when I was fourteen and my Dad moved out to Canalave City to become the Gym Leader there, he asked Riley to take Oreburgh's Gym first and—

Riley is really amazing.

He makes my own eight badges look like rusty pennies.

Riley suddenly jerks his attention toward my door and gets up. "May I use your restroom, Roark?" he asks.

"Eh? Of course."

"Thanks!" He gets up and disappears into the bathroom. He didn't really have to ask, but my thoughts are interrupted as Lucario suddenly gets up and bolts toward the door.

"Lucar! Lucar!"

I guess that's why Riley looked at it. I know about his whole Aura using thing, but I don't understand it that much. My guess is the Lucario sensed someone coming, and in the next few moments I'm proven right.

For the second time this morning, a knock comes.

Busy day already.

Another knock, and then an impatient Gardenia shouts:

"I know it's too early for you to be at work! Get out here because I've got something really awesome for you and if you don't answer I'll just have to keep it for myself!"

I curse under my breath. This is really out of character for Gardenia. Like I said before, she's not a morning person, despite her affiliation with gardens and other things that flourish under the sun.

"And you don't have to call Volkner to get it!" she adds at the top of her lungs.

"Don't mention that!" I holler, and I thrust open the door, annoyed but also kind of curious as to what she's got that's so "awesome." "I swear to Arceus, if this is another one of your ploys to get me to like Grass Pokémon, I will give you a paper cut!"

"Oh no, a paper cut!" She waves her hands around in mock fear. "That's a very substantial threat."

"Hey, my paper's pretty sharp."

"Anyway, take this." She pops a Poke Ball in my hands. Well, an Ultra Ball actually.

"Oh, thanks. You can never have too many Ultra…"

"It's not the ball, Helmet Hair! I got you a Pokémon. From Unova."

"Let me guess… Grass-Type?"

"I don't know what it is." She pushes the release hatch on the ball and a glowing light fills the room. "It keeps eating all my mulch, though!"

"What a tragedy."

The light subsides and in the middle of the hallway is a green, lizard-looking critter with a red gem on its belly and a vaguely pinecone-ish tail. My eyes light up as soon as I recognize what it is and I bend down to its level, excited.

"Oh, wow! A Larvitar!"

"A what?"

"A Larvitar!" Before I realize it I'm hugging the thing. It stares back at me as if I'm high or something. "It's so cute! Thanks!"

"You think it's cute? Wow, you are adorkable."

For what seems like the umpteenth time today, my cheeks flush and I break away from the Larvitar.

"Stop being such a cute little nerd. My poor heart can't take it." She fakes a heart attack.

"Rass off. These are really hard to find. Did you know they're capable of eating mountains?"

"Wow. Fascinating as _shit, _man. As much as I love hearing about you and your rocks and your rocky things, I have to get back to Eterna City so I can win against all my challengers with my superior plant Pokémon—oh, hey, what's with the Lucario?"

I freeze and direct my gaze to where she's spotted Riley's Lucario, having a spat with Rampardos over the couch. It's not even that nice a couch.

"I didn't know you had Pokémon that aren't terrible. Or is it your Pokémon? Ooooooh let me guess. It's…" She bats her eyelashes and makes a kissy face. "… Riley's!"

Goddamn it.

"You totally have your boyfriend over, don't you, and that's why you're not letting me in! You want to spend the day getting all kissy-kissy with your Riley-kins instead of hanging out with your amazing, wonderful friend!"

"I-I think I just threw up in my mouth a little," I stutter, but my face is redder than my hair. "We're not dating, okay? How many times do I have to tell you this?"

"Except you're acting like a blushy idiot. It's okay if you like guys, Roark. I don't judge. It's okay to be gay, Roark. Go ahead and be gay, Roark."

"S-Stop! I'm not gay!"

"Except you were two were totally flirting in that letter I saw last night…"

"No we weren't!"

"You keep telling yourself that, but it's pretty obvious the case here is Roarkie and Riley sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g…! First comes love, then comes, uh, civil union, and then comes…"

"What's this about me?"

Riley emerges from the bathroom. Gardenia zips her lips immediately and purses them into a nervous smile.

"Wow, he's _fine," _she whispers to me after a bit, "how the hell did you of all people manage to land him?"

"I didn't," I hiss. "You'd better be polite, because he's my boss."

"Oh man, he's the president of Canalave Industrial? So he's rich too? How did you do it? Can you teach me?"

"Well, it is true I'm the president," says Riley, extending a hand out to Gardenia. So he obviously heard her, but he chose not to comment on the fact she thinks we're dating. "But Roark and I aren't like that."

… So he did after all!

"Even though he is very cute, he's just my prized employee."

"Is this 'torture Roark' day or something?" I mutter. I have never taken this much humiliation at once in my life before.

"My name's Riley Fannin. Charmed, I'm sure. And you are…?"

"Gardenia," she stutters, shaking his hand at long last. Riley's very quiet and has a laid-back nature, but he has a way of intimidating people when he first meets them. "Gardenia Lazarus, Gym Leader of Eterna City."

"Ah, yes, the Master of Vivid Plant Pokémon." He closes his eyes and smiles. "I believe I've seen you around the Battle Frontier, but we haven't met."

"Yeah, wonder why…"

"I remember getting my Eterna Gym badge. This was long before you were leader, of course."

"How old is he, again?" she whispers to me.

"It's impolite to ask a gentleman his age!" he chuckles.

Gardenia reels back in surprise. I guess she doesn't know a thing about Aura Users and that you must absolutely be careful about how you present yourself around them lest you be in for a nasty surprise.

"S-Sorry!"

"Aha! It's fine! We were being so mean to Roark that I thought he needed a break. You can be mean to me next."

"I'll pass…"

"If you insist. Here's my card." He produces his business card out of nowhere and presses it into a very confused Gardenia's hand. "It would make me very happy if we could spar sometime. I warn you, though; I'm kind of decent at battling."

"I'm running late for work," I say.

"Don't worry," replies Riley, not getting the hint. "I'll make sure you don't get in trouble all on account of me. Do look over the contract."

"Contract?" Gardenia's natural curiosity gets the better of her.

"Yes," Riley says. "I want Roark to join me in a most honorable position for a little journey."

"I think I understand his language now," she mutters to me, "you should totally go on a romantic getaway with your terrifying boyfriend. Oreburgh's awful to be cooped up in."

"Oh, I didn't think I was that terrifying!" Riley laughs yet again, and Gardenia shrieks. "But I agree Oreburgh is a bit boring!"

"How does he keep…? Oh, never mind! I have to go home now. Have fun with your Larvitard or whatever it's called!"

It's still sitting in the hall, perplexed.

"Thank you so much, Gardenia!" I call after her, but she's out of the apartment in a flash, running away at the speed of light.

"Sorry about her," I tell Riley as I pick up the Ultra Ball and command the Larvitar to return.

"Oh, she's very funny!" he asserts. "And it was very nice of her to give that to you."

"Yeah, it was, wasn't it? I guess I have five on my team now, then!"

"Anyway, I'm sorry for keeping you. Lucario, come!"

Lucario and Rampardos stop fighting over the decimated couch, and the former trots over to Riley. He picks up his briefcase and motions again to the contract, lying cold and alone on the ground.

"Again, I urge you to read the contract over in detail and sign your consent or denial. But I'd really like you to come. Now, I'm going back to the inn I'm staying at. If any of your coworkers give you trouble, show them the contract or tell them they can take it up directly with the man staying in room 215 at the Miner's Motel. Now you know where to find me, and of course, you have my Xtranceiver number. Farewell for now, Roark, and I eagerly await your decision."

He tips his hat to me and leaves with the Lucario. I watch as he descends the steps, still blushing and wondering what the hell just happened.

I really am late for work, though. I snap on my red work helmet and pull on my gloves, stuffing the contract into my equipment pack. Lastly I take the revolver from my dresser, fully loaded but not cocked, and put it in my back pocket. Now I'm finally ready for my day.

I let Rampardos follow behind me as I descend the ancient concrete steps of my apartment complex and twist through the dusty streets. He was cooped up all day yesterday, so he deserves to get out. At last I make it to the entrance of the Oreburgh coalmine, conveyor belts transporting product into trucks and like things.

A few workers are there to greet me at the entrance.

"Hey, foreman!" one greets.

"Sorry I'm late, guys!" I force a grin. "I had one helluva morning."

"What? Early challengers at the gym?"

"No, no. I just had a very interesting meeting with Mr. Fannin."

"The boss? _That_ Mr. Fannin?"

"Yep."

We make our way into the depths of the mine. It's huge, and it even goes beneath the ocean floor. A few workers shuffle past me with carts and I set my pack on an oil drum.

"What are you in trouble for?" jokes another man who accompanied me on the way down.

"Nothing! Let's just say he offered me a position that would be really hard to refuse."

"Ah! Sweet! Well, boss, what's there to do today?"

"Business as usual," I answer, taking a shovel. "Also weekly equipment inspections. Need to check the coal dust monitors again, and get the explosives technicians to finally blast that deposit in the eighth sector. I have two challengers today, so I trust the mechanics are present and can work without my supervision, correct?"

"Aye, sir."

A Zubat flies over our heads. In this mine, we let trainers come in to practice battles with the wild Pokémon here. Therefore it's paramount we keep it a safe environment.

"Anyway, until then, I'm working in the third sector. Call me if there's trouble."

"Yessir!"

And so life returns to normal. I make my way to the part of the mine I intend to work in today, but I freeze dead in my tracks when I get there.

It's _him. _

How he could have the gall to even show his face in front of me after what happened, I will never know, but he turns to me.

And he smiles.

And he gives me a knowing wink.

I'm stone cold except for the fact my body is overcome with palpitations. Panic sets in and I compulsively brush a hand across the gun stored in my pocket. I'm about to draw it when a hand comes to rest on my shoulder. I spin around, a fist balled and ready to strike. I lower it when I see it's not him but somebody else.

His jaw is agape, visibly stunned by my reaction.

"Are you okay, man?" he asks once he gets over the initial shock.

"O-Of course I am!" I sputter, forcing my hand to unclench. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You froze for a few minutes there. You look pretty pale and you're shaking. Are you sick or something?"

I pause and stare at the ground. "… Yeah," I answer after a bit. "I AM feeling a little sick. Mind if I go to the first aid office and get an aspirin or something? I'll be right back."

"No problem. I'll cover for you."

"Thanks." Without another ceremonious word, I take off, running as fast as my legs will carry me. I grab my pack and sprint out the mine, even Rampardos struggling to catch up with me.

"What's wrong with him?" mutters one worker to another as I pass them.

"Dunno what the fuck his problem is," answers his companion. "He's been like this ever since he took that pickaxe through his hand…"

They think I can't hear, but I can. I don't confront them. I just run through Oreburgh, the hot sun pounding down and the dust making me tear up. Or is it the dust? I don't know anymore. I throw open the pack and clumsily, desperately take out the contract, half reading and half paying attention to the road. I have a pen in my bag as well, and I try to find that, too.

Remember when I said I would stay in Oreburgh no matter what?

That was a lie.

I've been lying to myself a lot lately.

To the Miner's Motel I fly, pounding up the steps to the second floor until I'm standing outside room 215. I rap my fist on the door repeatedly. At first no one comes. My knocks grow louder and harsher, and at last he answers and smiles at me.

"You seem excited," says Riley.

Having freed the pen from my bag, I flip to the last page of the contract and sign across the "yes" option. I scrawl down the date and thrust the packet in his hands.

"I'm coming with you!" I pant. "When do we leave?"

Riley blinks, at first furrowing his brow and then returning to his previous smile. "Oh? You are? Maybe you ought to train Psychic-Types instead… you must have ESP or something, since I just got off the phone with Dawn and Professor Rowan. She accepts."

Yes.

Yes.

Yes!

"She's coming when?"

"Today to check out the gym."

"Good. I can show her the ropes then. What should I pack?"

"Aren't you going back to work?"

"Sure…" The answer lingers lamely in the air. Riley knows something's up and that I'm not planning to return today.

"Okay then. But one thing, Roarkie."

"What's that?"

He flips to another page of the contract. "You didn't sign it fully. I'll need you to sign here, and initial here, and…"


	4. Don't You Worry

**Oh, my, it's been about a month since I last updated, hasn't it? Unacceptable! But here's the next chapter. Considering I finally got around to watching Roark's episodes on the anime, I've recently acquired diabeetus because of his sheer adorableness. I mean, with all the things wrong with _Ancient Family Matters, _l'il Roarkie makes me forgive everything. So, here, have copious amounts of l'il Roarkie, the cutest thing since grown up Roarkie. And also... uh... some dark stuff with Riley. **

**NinjaGirlRebecca: Thanks! I'm having a blast writing Gardenia, so I'm glad she gave you a chuckle. :)**

**Tsunayoshi Uni Sawada: You'll learn about it soon enough! Eventually! I'm glad you enjoyed last chapter more. I do think this chapter-Riley's second one-is better than his introductory as well. Thanks again!**

**Razeasha: Oh, wow, thanks again for yet another review! To be honest, I've never stepped foot in a dojo in my life! I'm glad I could capture the feeling despite my shameful lack of experience. XD As for your question regarding Volkner, the answer is "maybe." All will come about in good time! Larvitar is a Johto 'mon, but you can find Tyranitar and Pupitar on Route 15 in B2W2. I think it'd be silly if Larvitar didn't live in Unova as well, but they're probably underground most of the time... or something.**

Chapter 4: Don't You Worry

Riley

_"What are you doing in there, Roarkie? You've been digging for hours."_

_ The little child playing in the sandbox sets down his plastic shovel and looks up at me. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and beams. _

_ "Looking for treasure!" he answers without hesitation._

_ I can't help but crack a smile despite myself, and I walk over, bending over to where he's playing. Lucario follows after me. "Have you found anything good?"_

_ "I found a lipstick case," says Roarkie with a big smile, "and a whole quarter! But no fossils."_

_ "No fossils today? That's a shame."_

_ He's such a precocious little kid, and cute as a button, but he's playing all by himself. The other children on the playground ignore him, even the other ones in the sandbox. It makes me a little sad. Oreburgh's sky is acrid with pollution, and the playground is rusted, dilapidated. This is a dying place of poverty and little opportunity. Sure, there's the mine, but even that doesn't bring in enough money to support the citizens. Still, Roarkie and his parents and all the other people here seem happy. It's odd. I know I should feel out of place here in my expensive business suit and reeking affluence, but I don't._

_ "Maybe tomorrow," resolves young Roarkie, and he reaches out to pet Lucario on the head._

_ Make it stop, he telegraphs._

_ What? You don't like human children but you make so many Riolu? Hypocrite._

_ Fine. He is sort of nice anyway._

_ "I imagine it would be hard to find a fossil in a sandbox," I chuckle._

_ "I know, but Daddy won't let me go in the mines yet, and Mommy yelled at me for digging in the yard. She yells a lot."_

_ "That's a fact!" I laugh again and wipe some of the sand off his face. "And she'll yell at me if I don't get you home for your lunch! Come now!"_

_ "What? I don't want to go!"_

_ "Aren't you the least bit hungry? Fine then. You can stay in the sandbox, but you won't get to see my new Riolu."_

_ "I've seen many Riolu before!"_

_ "But this is a special one!"_

_ He cocks his head up and looks at me with wide eyes, bright eyes the color of old copper or an October sunset. His large red helmet almost drops over his face. "Really? Are you lying?"_

_ "What? No, of course not!"_

_ "Five more minutes? Maybe I'll find a fossil then!"_

_ "They have been waiting around for millions of years! I'm sure they could wait another day. What do you want to do with fossils anyway?"_

_ "Well, I want my own Pokémon someday, but first I'm going to give one to Daddy, because he likes fossils, too," he says adamantly, "and I'll also give one to Mommy. Maybe there are flower fossils? I think she'd like that. And I'll give one to you, Riley!"_

_ "For me? How kind of you!"_

_ I lift him into my arms and swing him around in the way that he likes. He giggles and grabs my shirtsleeve._

_ "Of course! You're part of the family, too!"_

_ This throws me off guard. I stop, and his countenance becomes worried._

_ "Did I say something bad? It's just that you never talk about your own family…"_

_ "No, no!" I try my best to comfort him. "I don't really have a family."_

_ "Why not?"_

_ "Well… no use sheltering you from it. My own father died when I was little, and my mother doesn't like me very much, so we don't talk anymore."_

_ "Oh. I'm sorry." He reaches out to pet my face in a comforting gesture. "Why doesn't she like you?"_

_ "Well, sometimes parents just don't love their children."_

_ "That's very sad." He frowns, but brightens up again. "But it's okay because you have us! I really like you, Riley, and I know Mommy and Daddy do, too."_

_ "You're very wise for your age. You're right! You are my family."_

_ "See? You're my best friend ever, Riley."_

_ I let him ride piggyback as we return to the Pierrot household; the plastic shovel clutched in one little hand. After a while, I say:_

_ "So, you want a fossil Pokémon as your starter? I thought you didn't like Pokémon battles, though?"_

_ "Oh, I like Pokémon a lot!" he asserts. "But I don't like battling. There's a difference. Daddy wants me to be a Gym Leader like he is when I grow up, but I don't want to. He makes me use his Pokémon, and it's very boring and the Pokémon get hurt."_

_ "Maybe they like to battle?"_

_ "Hmm… I don't know about that." His long red hair brushes against the crook of my neck. "Maybe we'd know if they could talk to us."_

_ "Maybe!"_

_ "And Daddy's also mean when he makes me train. He yells louder than Mommy, even. But I like all the Pokémon! I want a Cranidos. They're really cool. The kids at Pre-K make fun of me 'cuz I don't have a Pokémon yet, so I'll get the coolest one to show them!"_

_ "But you shouldn't choose one just to spite others, Roarkie! Choose it because it's your favorite!"_

_ "Well, I guess you're right." He pauses. "Cranidos IS my favorite."_

_ "I like that determination in your voice, young one!"_

_ We come to the old house. It's little more than a shanty trailer set up on a trashed lot. There's no vegetation anywhere. And to think they're doing comparatively well to the other Oreburghians. _

_ "Show me the Riolu!" he demands suddenly. "You promised to show me a special Riolu!"_

_ "Ah, I did, didn't I?" I let him down in front of the door and fish a Poke Ball out of my pocket. Lucario's Aura sensors rise, getting that I'm about to release his newborn kit. "This one hatched just this morning. Roarkie, did you know that sometimes Pokémon come in different colors? Usually, nobody ever gets to see anything like this, so we should consider ourselves very lucky! Okay, here goes…!" I press the release hatch on the Poke Ball, and a mass glows on the ground. The glowing subsides, and in its place is a Shiny Riolu. It's very curious about the brand new world, and it teeters around, flexing its own Aura sensors and sniffing everywhere._

_ "Wow!" Roarkie cries, running up to the Riolu. He pets it on the head. At first, it's shy, but it warms up to him and nuzzles into his chest. Riolu are slightly cuddlier than their adult counterparts, Lucario. They're very good for kids. "Gold Riolu! That's extraordinary!"_

_ "How does a boy your age pick up the word 'extraordinary'? Well, maybe you'll get a gold Riolu of your own someday." I flash him a grin._

_ "Wow, really? Well, I'd rather get my Cranidos first, but thanks! Maybe there are different colored Cranidos?"_

_ Lucario's tail falls and he slits his eyes. "Lucar," he barks._

_ I flash him a look, and am about to telegraph him a message when the front door swings open and a woman comes out._

_ "If it isn't the lovely lady of the house! How are you doing, Mrs. Pierrot?" I ask amiably. Byron must either be working at the mine or the Gym right now; I have no idea which._

_ "Tired as always, Mr. Fannin."_

_ "Mr. Fannin was my fa—"_

_ "I know, I know. You are a prince, Riley Fannin. Thanks for taking him off my hands for a few hours."_

_ "My pleasure, ma'am. I'll see you later, Roarkie! Maybe we could go digging for some real fossils if you ever come out to visit me on Iron Island in Canalave, eh?"_

_ "Oh, don't give him any ideas. Run along now, Roark. There's a PB and J with your name on it—and then off to the bath with you!"_

_ "But Mommy…"_

_ "No buts, young man! Say goodbye to Mr. Fannin."_

_ "Bye-bye. Bye, Lucario. Bye, gold Riolu. Bye, Riley." He gives us each a hug respectively. Lucario rolls his eyes, but his Aura can't fool me. He likes Roarkie, but he's way too proud to admit it._

_ The door closes, and I trudge back to my car for the long drive to Canalave from whence I came._

* * *

Roark managed to pack his bags even faster than I anticipated.

Maybe I should've known better, since he doesn't have much, just a duffel bag of clothes and bare necessities and a pack for his Pokémon gear. It kind of embarrasses me, knowing that I have a full suitcase as well as a briefcase and my own pack.

It's the hottest day in Oreburgh when we finally set off to leave, but I'm still wearing my heavy turtleneck sweater and royal blue blazer. Roark is dressed much more practically, with his grey jacket tied around his neck, his helmet placed on his Rampardos' head. His slightly muscular arms hang out with the black undershirt he wears, and his body gleams with sweat. He's finally gotten off work, and we agreed to meet at the Gym.

To this day I have no idea how the gruff and masculine Byron managed to sire such a beautiful boy. Roark's small and thin, but sturdy and in shape at the same time. He doesn't even come up to my shoulder, but he has a presence about him that makes one unable but to sit up and take notice. He has such lovely hair, like aged wine, that comes to his shoulders and tapers off upward a bit. He's dressed practically from head to toe with his muddied work clothes and well-worn Wellington boots. Yet, despite his roughness, the look to him that shows he's taken his share of knocks and has seen some terrible things, there's something about him that exudes sweetness and serenity. Maybe it's those bright eyes like an October sunset, those bright eyes that gleam so sadly from beyond the rim of his glasses.

Can one's eyes be bright and sad at the same time?

It's certainly not an expression he wore four years ago, but if I look into those deep crimson pools long enough, I can see something—a little flicker of hope and joy, a bit of childlike bliss that struggled and survived throughout the years against all odds.

Forgive the cliché, but he's like an angel, if angels walked upon the earth and were constantly covered in dirt.

It seems the entire city of Oreburgh is here, too, to bid him farewell. He really is popular here.

He's talking to Dawn, who nods her head vigorously at every word he says. "The Pokémon are kept in the back. If you've never worked with Rock-Types before, they have a lot of weaknesses, so I like to counter that with elemental attacks. Stick to physical and not special and you should be fine. Pretty much every challenger I get comes with a Piplup. It's really annoying, so save the Cranidos to take care of it, since it's faster."

He really does seem to know what he's doing. Rock-Types are hard to use. They're powerful, but require intellect and strategic planning on the part of the trainer. Roark has so much potential in him. If only he'd open up to it.

"And furthermore," Roark continues, "the number of trainers under me changes every day. I teach a few boys, so they come pretty much all the time, but the mineworkers are also allowed to relax and toughen up their Pokémon here. If they give you any trouble at all, call me, and I'll straighten them out. My mine has absolutely stringent expectations for social conduct, so hopefully they won't be a problem."

"Uh-huh, sure thing, Leader Roark. Is it okay for me to really take the Gym, though? Don't I have to get the League's permission or something?"

"Eh, no, not if it's only a temporary arrangement. Legally, a Gym Leader can give a person permission to act in his or her place for a maximum of three months without the Pokémon League interfering... which is how long I'll be gone. I thought Professor Rowan would've told you this?"

"He doesn't teach me about battling." Dawn shrugs. "Just about the Pokémon."

"Ah, I see. If you have any more questions, you can call me or talk to my referee. His name is Ian. He's one of my greatest friends, so I hope you'll get along well. It's a shame he couldn't meet me to say bye today."

"Roark," I interrupt, "I'm sure she's got this on her own. Come now. We have a schedule to adhere to."

"Coming, sir!" he calls. He bids Dawn farewell and picks up his bags, walking to me. "Shall we go?"

"Aren't you going to get a shower first?" I ask him.

He tenses up and blushes, rubbing the back of his head. "Ahahaha, well, uh…"

"You can be so absentminded sometimes, Roarkie. Yet you still have more common sense than your father. Imagine that! It's all right; I don't mind."

He shifts around a bit, and I take his arm. He instinctively pulls it away, blushes yet again, and then reaches for it as though he has no idea what to do. I grab his arm again, firmly, and start leading him away from Oreburgh. He's silent, tongue-tied and hesitant on letting me touch him.

Embarrassing Roark is easier than adding two and two. I can see how some people might find his easily flustered ways annoying, but I find it pretty cute.

"It suits you. You smell earthy, like somebody who legitimately does a hard days' work. I kind of like it."

"…"

"Eh? Why are you so silent all of a sudden?"

"Well, how am I supposed to react to that?" he bursts out, breaking eye contact. "I mean, uh… Can I take your bags? I'm really strong. I can handle it!"

"There'll be no need for that!" I take out a Poke Ball and release Salamence. I climb onto his back, and signal to Roark. "Get on. We have to make it to Canalave soon."

"C-Canalave!" He returns his Rampardos to his Poke Ball, and I do the same with Lucario.

_What are you doing….!?_

_ Sorry, my friend. This is for your safety._

"The mine's out of commission on Iron Island! Why would we…?"

"To grab the ferry, of course!"

"You know, it would be a lot less expensive to take the Underground. I know everything about it… I could guide you, and it would be just the two of us! I mean… uh… we would be all alone, and…" He twiddles his thumbs. He's still blushing. His crush on me is really so precious. I could just eat him up right here and now. Oh, of course I know his feelings for me. It exuded from his letters and was confirmed by his Aura. It's a deep blue Aura, darker than I expected it to be, but still… nice, I guess. It's not an overwhelming Aura; in fact, it's quite weak and hard to pick up. Maybe he's blocking something off from me and I can't fully access his mind. Or maybe it's just my lack of skill.

It's just a boyish crush, I'm sure. All teenagers are like that, tormented by hormones. Homosexual attractions aren't that uncommon, either. They're usually transient (At least that's what I learned from the various psychology articles I've read the past few weeks). He'll get over it soon enough.

And then a nasty little thought stings me in the back of my head. _Except he'll never get over it once you're through with him. _I feel a twinge deep inside me, but I don't recognize the feeling—guilt, sadness, and maybe a little sick glee?

It doesn't matter.

I shake it off and smile at him. If I'm going to go through with this, I'm going to have to stay aloof. Be an absolute gentleman to him, but don't—I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I've waited my whole life for this opportunity.

And I will do anything to get it.

Anything.

"That's a very good idea," I tell him at last, "but I don't think you've dug past Sinnoh yet. Hoenn is the first stop."

"Oh."

"Hoenn is always first. But I'll take you up on that offer once we return to Sinnoh. Now, get on."

Roark shifts around a bit. "You know, I have my own Aerodactyl…" He pauses for a moment, and then has a change of heart. His voice quiets several notches, and when he speaks he's short of breath. "Then again… uh… Aerodactyl isn't as strong as a Salamence. So maybe I shouldn't force it to do something it wasn't meant to, ahaha…" His Xtranceiver rings. He flips it open and presses the ignore button. His Aura grows a little darker. I raise an eyebrow.

"Who was that?" I ask.

"Telemarketer," he answers immediately, like an automaton.

I give him a look. He turned way too stormy way too quickly just for the minor annoyance of a telemarketer. "Ah. Very aggravating, I know. Well, shall we not stall any longer?"

"You don't have to tell me that again." He snaps out of his stupor and finishes tethering the bags to Salamence's back, and scrambles up behind me. "Does this thing come with a seatbelt?"

"Aha, I'm afraid evolution hasn't taken it that far yet. I believe you'll just have to hold onto me. The ride to Canalave is only an hour, after all."

"Hold on…?" He makes a strangled squeak.

"Is that a problem?"

"N-No! Why would it be?" He clings to my sides in that over-enthusiastic manner that shows he's trying to be casual and confident, but is failing marvelously. "Let's go!"

"Salamence—use Fly!" I command, and the pseudo-legendary beast lurches into the air. Roark gives a small gasp and throws his arms around me, clinging to me for dear life. It almost knocks me off balance, but I manage to grab Salamence's neck and upright myself. "Are you quite all right?" I ask as we ascend. I have to holler over the wind barrier whipping past us.

"Of course!" he yells back. He's shivering into me. I don't know if that's because he's scared or he's dressed far too lightly for air transit. He buries his face into my back, and then I determine: scared. The wind is far too disturbing to read Aura, but I wouldn't be surprised if he isn't used to flying. It's funny, though—he has his absurdly dangerous job, his absurdly dangerous Pokémon, and his absurdly dangerous hobbies… but he's frightened of being off the ground a little bit? Roarkie is very amusing.

At last we reach cruising altitude and the wind dies down enough so that we can maintain a proper conversation. His muscles relax a bit after takeoff, but he's still squeezing me. He's quiet. Very quiet.

"That was… spectacularly uncool of me," he says after a while.

"I'll say," I agree.

"Hey!"

I have a laugh at his expense, but he seems calmer now. We continue on a bit in silence. At last, I speak up: "You're being rather quiet back there. Is something wrong?"

"Um…" he answers after a beat. He nuzzles into me and I can feel his breath come hot against my back. "No. I was just thinking."

"I see. I'm not much of a conversationalist myself. I find thinkers more valuable than talkers. It gets a little lonely, though, only thinking all the time and never sharing those thoughts with others. So am I underrating talkers? I don't know."

"You can be even weirder than my Dad sometimes," mutters Roark, and he draws me closer yet. "I was just thinking… I'm really happy you chose me. I mean, I said in my letters that I wanted you to call me… yet you went above and beyond that and met me in the flesh. You have… no idea how much that means to me."

"Well, truth be told," I answer him, "I'm very happy you decided to come. I thought I'd have to spend several days convincing you… tch! You know, I had no alternate choice but you."

"R-Really?" He's breathless now, and I feel a bit short of it myself.

"Honestly. You were the only one I wanted. If you hadn't accepted, then, well, I probably would've just stayed at the Battle Frontier and sent someone else." His hands curl around my hips. "I do get really very lonely sometimes. You and Byron are very special to me. You especially."

"R-Riley! What's that supposed to mean?"

I look back at him and give him a soft smile. "I'll let you interpret that as you wish."

"Why are you so perfect?" he mumbles.

"Eh?" This is way easier than I thought it would be. I have him wrapped around my little finger already… "You think I'm perfect?"

"In my opinion, you might as well be. You're the only one who's ever made me feel like this…" His voice trails off immediately. "Actually, forget I just said that. You just make me feel… really happy, okay?"

"Is that so?" I turn away from him, and I bite my lip. "How can I continue to make you happy?"

"Th-that's an odd question! Just keep… being yourself."

"Is that it?" My shoulders hunch up, and he puts a hand on it.

"Are you okay?"

"Er… yes." I try my best to lift my voice. "I'm just a little tired. I haven't been sleeping much."

"Neither have I."

"Did you have another nightmare?"

"Eh?" He jerks up a bit, and for just one moment, his Aura blazes with fierce emotion. "No! I don't have nightmares all the time, you know. Just… work."

He's lying through his teeth. My curiosity piqued, I try to force my own Aura onto him to scan his mind. A brief jet of pain lances through me, and I let go of Salamence to grab my head.

"Riley! Hold on!"

I get a hold of myself and grab Salamence's horns before we're sent careening ten thousand feet below. I've almost gotten us killed twice today. I have to watch that.

"What's wrong?" he demands, voice urgent.

My head is still reeling from the shock. Funny, that's never happened before. Admittedly, it was wrong of me to try and pry the answer straight from his own mind, but he has me intrigued. Perhaps I was foolish trying to do advanced level Aura manipulation while there are so many disturbances around us. "I got something in my eye!" I reassure him. Now it's my turn to lie. It's not like I can go and tell him, "Oh, I just tried to read your mind, no big deal."

"You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry about that. Oh dear… this trip hasn't started out so smoothly, I fear."

"Nothing can be smooth when you're flying on a Pokémon! It's all right… as long as we land."

"We'll be doing that soon enough. Yes, I agree that I'm getting sloppy with my aviation! Like I said, I haven't been sleeping myself."

"That surprises me. You don't look tired."

"That's probably because I'm used to it. I've had nigh—insomnia for almost the whole year."

"I'm sorry."

"Perhaps we both need this, then!" I look at him once again and flash him my most winning smile. "Think of it like a little vacation you're getting paid to go on!"

"Hmm… never been on a vacation before."

"You haven't?"

"How do you manage to find time at all to do all your little… hobby things? I've never seen you work a day in your life."

I burst out laughing. "I have my methods. We'll have down time. Don't you worry. Now, hold on tight."

Salamence dives toward the ground and Roark gives a legitimate shriek this time, grabbing me and crushing the air out of my lungs as we descend. I lean forward with the motion and direct the dragon with its horns onto an empty spot on the pier. We land with a rough bump, and Roark immediately scrambles off, relieved to feel the dirt beneath his feet. His posture straightens, and by the look on his face, I can see he's trying his hardest not to look like a coward. It almost makes me want to laugh again.

"I see flying's not your thing?"

"Not with the way you fly!" Roark releases his Rampardos and the two get to untying the bags, taking a lot of weight off my Pokémon's back. I also release my Lucario. He bristles his fur and snarls at me. Mad, I see.

_You are horrible, _he snaps.

_At what?_

_ Everything. You should be ashamed of your flying. You should be ashamed of your subpar regard for me. I do not like being trapped inside a little ball._

_ I can imagine that, _I reply, _but you do not have opposable thumbs, and therefore you cannot hold on to Salamence. Grow some thumbs and maybe we'll talk about it._

_ You're eating an Aura Sphere for that…!_

I said that Lucario are proud creatures, not pleasant ones. If it were anybody else teasing him but his trainer, he probably would've carried through with his threat.

Telepathy with my Lucario is both a blessing and a curse, what can I say? One of the drawbacks, besides his illustrious personality, is that I can't multitask when communicating in this fashion.

So it comes as a surprise to me when I stop talking, several minutes have passed, and Roark is carrying all the bags, positioned in some way or another so that he can take all of them. I open my mouth to tell him to stop, I'll take a few, but then I'm transfixed by how he manages to tote them with relative ease.

Holy hell, just look at the little guy _go_.

If there's one thing I've learned about Roark Pierrot throughout the years, it's that you don't tell him he can't do something. He'll just go out of his way and prove you wrong. It's kind of ludicrous, thinking that such a tiny thing can be a coal miner, but like every other person in my operation, he had to take a physical exam to get the job, and he passed—with flying colors.

I can still think of what one man in Oreburgh told me four years ago, when I last saw Roarkie at inspections. He grabbed Roark around the shoulder, apparently unaware of the fact I knew him, and said to me, "See this little twig here? Ain't no way this fella can be a miner. Well, what if I told ya this little twig is actually the foreman? Ya know why?" And I chuckled, and I told him, no, I do not know why, please humor me. And he replied, "This kid is dynamite. Comes in small packages, but packs a helluva punch."

Only now that I see him in action do I understand what he meant by that. At last I gather enough common decency to at least ask him if he needs any help, but true to his nature, he staunchly refuses. He manages to take everything up to the ticket counter, where the customs agent eyes him, half in disbelief, half in admiration, until he realizes whom it is.

"Well, if it isn't Byron's kid… and the hotshot Fannin to boost! How may I serve ya? Do you wish to go to Iron Island?"

"Some other time," I answer him, having caught up with Roarkie. "I have two tickets to Slateport on will call, my good man."

"Slateport? Hoenn? Ah, so you're doing that inspection thing again. Yes, here are your records…" He prints out a tag and loops it around the handle of one of the bags. "So, how does Byron feel about junior taking the reins this year?"

"Oh, I managed to convince him."

Roark raises an eyebrow in my direction, but still, he's quiet.

"And you've reserved two cabins, yes?"

"That is correct, sir."

"Do you have any weapons to declare?"

"No, I…"

But Roark stops me. "Yes. Just a second." He reaches into his duffel bag and pulls out a case. It's got a lock on it.

"What's this?"

"Revolver. Twelve rounds. Unloaded, of course."

"Can you unlock it? I have to check it. Also, I need your ID. Sorry; it's the law."

"No problem."

I watch with curiosity as he unlocks the box, and sure enough, there's a handgun nestled inside a velvet bed. There's a sort of discord to Roarkie having a gun. I can't place my finger on why that is, though. The customs agent goes through all the motions, checks to see if Roark is true to his word, confirms his age on the ID, relocks the case, and then he slaps a sticker across it.

"I have to take this to secure storage for the rest of the trip. Pick it up at the end. Inconvenient, I know, but again: laws."

"That's fine." Roark smiles sweetly, and the agent finishes checking us in. "You have police on board, right?"

The question stops both the agent and I dead in our tracks. Okay, that's DEFINITELY an unusual question coming from his lips.

"… Yes. We have a full security unit."

"Okay. That's good."

He watches Roark warily as he loads the luggage onto a cart with all the other passengers' bags. "The ship departs at sixteen hundred hours," he gulps, "have a nice trip."

We're two hours early, but the ship is at the port, and as such, we're allowed to board.

"Does your father know you have a gun?" I ask Roark as we walk toward the bow.

He shrugs. "Don't tell him."

"Why not?"

"He'll start asking questions." My eyes widen with horror as I focus in on his Aura. A great pulse of jet black overcomes the normal dark blue for just a moment, until it ebbs away. All right, there's something definitely wrong. For the second time today, I try to access his mind, but again I feel a wall of pain like a bolt of lightning push me away. The first time was negligible. This time, I know for sure he's locking me out. I don't know what to feel—worried about his wellbeing, or impressed that he knows such a technique.

"Ah—well!" I stammer. "You are of age, and it's your right to have one! Sorry I asked. Oh, here's your cabin!"

His frown lightens up due to the welcome distraction, and suddenly he's returned to his previous sunny self. "Oh, wow! First class! Are you serious?"

"Of course! Only the best for you!"

Roark unlocks the door and flops down on the bed. "Riley," he says after a bit, staring up at me with these soft eyes. "I don't need luxury… you didn't have to…" His breath shudders, and I don't have to try and scan his mind again to know what he's thinking. His body relaxes completely, and he closes his eyes partway. In the corner, his Rampardos is sniffing at his bags, brought in by attendants before we boarded.

"Well, I did anyway," I retort.

_I've had enough of this. _It's the first Lucario's spoken up since the gun incident. _Human mating rituals are needlessly complicated._

"Stop that!" I scold, and Roarkie sits up, thoroughly confused. This time, I blush, having realized I said that out loud. "You're fine!" I reassure him, trying to do damage control. "Lucario was just being bad."

_Hah-hah!_

"Lucar!"

"Oh. Okay." He rolls back over onto the pillow. "Riley, can you come here for a few minutes? Or are you busy?"

"Not at all."

Roark sits up and makes room for me. I sit down next to him, and for a moment, I'm convinced he's going to make his move. He places his hand on my knee, but then hesitates and draws it away, folding his arms instead. I kind of figured that would happen.

"What do you need me for?"

"Oh… I… uh…" For the umpteenth time today, he avoids my gaze and swivels his ankle about, biting his lip. So he didn't make up any excuse for his behavior, eh?

"If you wanted to spend time with me, you could've just said so."

"No! It's just that…"

"Well, I have a final word of business with you anyway."

"Oh?"

"I know it's not outlined in the contract, but I have one rule of paramount importance."

"Riley Fannin follows rules?"

I chuckle. "No. But Roarkie Pierrot does. You know that briefcase I have? Yes, the one I brought with me when I first met you a few days ago. Well, my one rule is you must never touch the briefcase. Do not think of unlocking it. Do not think of reading the content inside. Do not even ask me what's in it."

"Top secret work stuff?"

"That's a way to put it." I smile softly, almost matching the softness of his gaze. "Now how does this rule make you feel?"

"Well…" He pauses, and furrows his brow. "It just makes me more curious than ever."

"Aha! Well, I kind of figured that would happen! Let's just say if you mess with the briefcase, the consequences would be dire."

"Hmm…" He rolls over, and suddenly he's lying in my lap. He stares up at me and parts his lips. "Would it mean losing you forever?"

"I wouldn't say…" A weight like lead sinks in my chest, and I seize up in somberness. "Actually, yes, that would most definitely happen."

"All right, then." I know he senses my change of mood, as he reaches up and strokes my cheek, like he would do when he was a child and would try to comfort me… but this time, it feels… different. I don't know. "No briefcase is worth our friendship. I won't pry."

"Yes… friendship." I grab him around the wrist and stroke his hand in turn. He trembles at this. "I see you understand. And one more rule."

"There's another?"

"Never think of me as perfect." My frown deepens, and now he's cupping my face with both his hands. He brings me down a long ways, so that I can feel the heat of his cheeks, the hard, rapid pounding of his heart.

"What's wrong, Riley?" he whispers.

His eyes consume me, and a part inside of me shrieks for me to tell him the truth, to beg him to run away before it's too late—but of course, I say nothing. I've rehearsed for this. "Nothing's wrong," I answer. "Don't you worry about this weirdo here. Now, I ask you: you won't think of me as perfect, will you?"

A moment of silence, and—

"I'll try my best."

"That's all I need to hear. I'm going back to my cabin now. I'll see you at dinner."

"Okay. See you later."

I leave with Lucario, shutting the door tight behind me. My whole chest has tightened, and I lean against the wall, trying to catch my breath. The world is spinning about me, and I feel very weak and small all of a sudden.

_So, _says Lucario, Aura sensors rising and taking in the whirlwind of emotions I'm feeling, _what's in the briefcase?_

_ None of your business, _I manage after a bit, starting the walk down the hall to my cabin.

_Is that so? _Lucario's toes clack on the wooden floor, and he has to run to keep up with me. _I thought we promised to never keep any secrets from one another. _

_ I don't want you getting involved with this._

_ What are you planning?_

I feel something like a cathartic sort of throbbing in my head, and all I can see is blue. "Get out!" I snarl aloud, blocking Lucario from reading my mind like Roark did to me twice today. My vision returns to normal, and Lucario yelps, staggering back in pain.

_Ow—ow—ow! What is your problem? You've been acting strange. Is it the nightmares? _A furry blue paw grabs my hand. _Or is it…? What do you feel about the boy?_

_ Eh?_

_ The boy. The Roark boy. I want to know how you feel about him._

_ Well, he's…_

_ And do you know how he feels about you?_

_ Yes. _I nod. _I know._

_ I think I know what you're planning to do with him, _asserts Lucario, and he bares his fangs. _You can't! He's just a kid…!_

I shake my head and continue. The hall seems dimmer now, and the walk just a bit lonelier. _I've waited my whole life for this._

_ So you're going to lead this innocent lamb off like this? When his only crime in the world is falling in love with _you? _You disgust me!_

_ Stop making assumptions about what I'm going to do!_

_ But I can feel it written all over you. Please… must you go through with this?_

I leave the key to my cabin in the lock, and nod.

_Is this the only way you'll ever be able to find peace?_

I nod again.

_Then let me go in his place instead. I implore you, please, please do not hurt the child._

_ Sorry, _I tell him, _Roarkie's the only one who'll do. He has something you don't._

_ And what is that?_

_ You'll figure it out. And I'm not going to hurt him. I'm not going to let him suffer one minute. I promise.  
_

Lucario's tail droops, and after a long pause: _If you don't make these three months the happiest ones of his life, I'll kill you._

_ You'd do that?_

_ I might just. The kid is… hurting a lot inside. There's something terribly wrong with his Aura. If he has to fall due to your selfishness, at least make him happy._

_ Okay, _I say, and I twist open the door. _I can make him happy._

_ May Arceus weep for you, Riley Fannin. I'll give you three months to rethink this._

_ Arceus can weep all he wants._

I can do this.

I can do this.

I can do this.

**... Oh snap. It's starting to get a little darkfic in here. Riley gets better. Maybe. Of course I have to reveal what his plans are first though. 'Til next time!**


	5. Nitroglycerin

**I've a new-found respect for people who are able to capably write Pokemon battle scenes. When you're playing the game, you think it's so simple, but once you pick up the pen you realize how technical the battle system actually is! Nonetheless, here's some (pathetic) action.**

**phoenixfyre2552: Thanks for the review! I'm asking that question myself... Maybe I'll put some "alternate ending" chapters in as a bonus. As for Volkner, let's just say... you're rather close! That's all for spoilers! ;) Things will start to unravel eventually.**

**NinjaGirlRebecca: I think Lucario's probably the most reasonable character in this story. It's hard being him when he's the only sane Pokemon, so to speak. Thanks for the review!**

**Tsunayoshi Uni Sawada: Hehe, that's probably the aptest way to describe Roark in this tale. Innocent is certainly a thing he's not. Thanks again for reviewing!**

Chapter 5: Nitroglycerin

Last night I had a good dream.

It's the first good dream I've had in a long while.

I thought it was going to be the mine one again, but it wasn't. I was in the mine, but then it veered off from the usual when I went to take a swim. An interesting fact about underground water, such as in caves and things, is that it's ridiculously pure. I don't know if that applies to water in manmade structures choked with coal dust, but this water was clear like crystal.

So I was swimming by myself for what seemed like an eternity. I didn't even run into any wild Pokémon. I heard a splash, and someone wrapped his arms around me. At first I was scared; I kicked and cried out and tried to break free, but then I saw a blue glow emanate from his hands, and indescribable bliss and happiness spread throughout me wherever they touched, and I knew it was _him_. His voice was very soft and low, and he massaged my shoulders, all of my stress and problems melting away just like that.

I could literally feel the heat of Riley's skin in this dream, the heaviness of his breath as he pulled my shirt up and teased my senses, not leaving a curve or slight accent of my body unexplored, spoiling me, electrifying me…

And then I wriggled around so that I faced him and he had the gentlest look on his face—and I wrapped my legs around his waist and held him tight, and his lips brushed the crown of my hair—

It made me wake up feeling a barrage of emotions assault me at the same time. I was hot and bothered and I wanted him to come in my cabin and do whatever he pleased with me, but at the same time I didn't want to give in to what my flesh pines for but what my mind repels and my heart locks out.

No, not yet.

I don't have that kind of courage right now.

I curl up with my pillow and roll over so that I can see the time on the clock.

8:00 a.m.

So I slept for once as well.

Briefly, my mind lapses into panic mode and I freak out over being late for work, berating myself harshly. Roark is the best worker in the mine, Roark is always reliable, goddamnit—Roark IS the mine…! _You should be ashamed of yourself!_

But then I remember that I'm on a ship to Hoenn and all that is miles behind me. Funny. I can't escape Oreburgh no matter how far I run. Maybe Gardenia's right. Maybe I am addicted to my job.

Or maybe I just have a good sense of dedication. Gardenia's never had to work a full-time job in her life. She doesn't understand how these things are.

I still feel horribly tired, though.

With the pillow still clenched between my legs, I bury myself deeper beneath the covers. I feel cold but turned on but in pain and I have a bad headache.

Another one of these damn things.

A hammer of needles pounds on my brain, but I get up and make my way to my duffel bag. Rampardos seems to know I'm in pain, as he gets there before me, and noses through it, taking out a box and ambling to me, cooing and gargling with the thing clamped in his teeth.

It looks kind of funny.

Rampardos have a scary appearance, but they're actually playful and affectionate by nature. I've heard them described as "happy idiots" before, but I don't like that term. It's true they're not that smart, but they're as intelligent as they need to be for their species. In general, Rock-Types aren't all that cuddly, but if you give 'em plenty of treats and love, they'll be loyal to you forever. People don't seem to realize that. They tend to go for "cool" Pokémon, ones that are cute and aesthetically pleasing. I don't give a shit about appearances, but if I had a nickel for every time my team was called ugly, I'd be a rich man.

I think they fit me.

My team and I, we're all a bunch of rocks lying forgotten in the dirt.

His tail wagging, I pat him on the head and take the box, and I open it.

Pills.

Colorful pills sorted into compartments, a mancala board for every day of the month.

It's the twenty-seventh, and normally that means I'd have to get a new prescription called in, but I still have enough pills for at least fifteen days. I don't take my medicine like I should, but if I skip out sometimes, it makes the supply last longer for when I'm really in pain, and also it's cheaper.

Today is one of those occasions.

I forgot which pill is which, so I just down all of them with a drink of water. One pill is a painkiller for when I work too hard and my back gives me hell, one pill is for stress and anxiety, one pill is for controlling my blood pressure, one pill is for my heart, and then there's just a regular old over-the-counter pill for headaches.

Looking at all these, you'd think I was an old man, not some eighteen-year-old kid with a demanding job. Sure, tell me I always bite off more than I can chew, but I'll chew it anyway and spit it out on the ground. That's how us Pierrots are, and how we always will be. Hard work is our philosophy.

But once in a while I think just being a Pierrot shaved a few years off my life. Sometimes I just freeze up and stare Death in the eye and try to make amends with him. Death and I are very good acquaintances, you see; you have to get along with him when you're a coal miner. We've brushed elbows every so often, but each time he shakes his head at me and says, "No, Roark, not now." But one of these days he's going to come knocking and then my life will be over and that's that.

And then I think, _Holy shit, you're being more depressing than Volkner. Stop that._

And that's right. A few little pills and some chest pain I've lived with since I was fourteen aren't going to kill me. Doubt and fear of the future will, so I tell my less certain side to shut up.

I'm just fine so far, and I will continue to be. Besides, Riley's here now, and when I'm around him I feel I can do anything.

Riley…

I don't understand him and why he makes me feel the way I do. I've never experienced anything like this before, and I know that I want him, but I don't know the exact way I want him, and he's so very confusing.

The headache medicine hasn't kicked in yet, but I get dressed, sweat pants and a tee shirt and sneakers. It's the classiest thing in the world to me, though, because I'm used to wearing my work uniform. I brush my teeth and run a comb through my hair a few times, and I exit the cabin, Rampardos waddling behind me.

The air is so wet and humid and the waves gently cradle the ship. There's a cool breeze, and the cries of Wingull sound in the calm. A lot of people are on deck with coffee and breakfast pastries. Some Pokémon are scurrying about, a few which I've never seen before. They must be native to Hoenn. Of course my big Rampardos gets stares, since fossil Pokémon aren't that common, but I try to sidestep through the commotion, hoping to avoid a battle challenge.

Luck is with me, as I make it to the other side of the ship where Riley's cabin is without incident. I don't think he's up yet, so I knock. No reply. Maybe he is up and is at breakfast, or maybe he's looking for me, so I start to leave, but then the door creaks open and he stands in front of me, the room behind him pitch black.

Oh.

Now I know what he means by him not sleeping much. His movements are slow and his reflexes hindered. His eyes are red and puffy, like he's been crying, but he also has dark circles under them so I determine that can't be it. He's otherwise groomed, and he yawns and gives me a grin.

It looks forced, but I know him better than that.

"It appears you've caught me while I'm indecent," he chuckles.

"What? You're not naked or anything!" I retort, laughing in return. I kind of wish he came to the door naked, though, and… Never mind!

"Oh, I am. I haven't put on my face. Do come in! I ready shall be… shall be ready in a few minutes." He trips over his own words and flashes an embarrassed smile. "I need my coffee."

Searching for the furniture with the most sunlight cast upon it, I do as he asks and sit down in a stuffed easy chair.

"LUCAR!"

"EEEEEYEAHHEEEE!" I spring up from it as my butt lands on a spiked paw. Lucario snaps and snarls, fur flat against his back. He hisses, turns around in circles, kneads the cushions a bit, and goes back to sleep on said chair where I neglected to notice him before.

"Oh, I probably should've warned you about that," Riley responds nonchalantly. "He's grumpy in the morning."

Rampardos inspects Lucario's tail, swooshing around, and he lunges at it, clacking his jaws together as he tries to catch it in his mouth. He must think the creature's a toy or something (Rampardos _love _toys), as he finally succeeds and pulls the Lucario out of the chair, dangling him upside down by the tail and shaking him a bit.

"LUCAR!" he snaps again, and swipes his steel spiked paws at Rampardos, landing a smack on his head. "L-Lucar…" This time he whimpers in pain as the paw bounces harmlessly off. Rampardos have heads harder than steel. There's a reason they're called the "Head-butt Pokémon."

Rampardos just stands there with a delighted grin on his face, and I can't help but burst out laughing. Riley turns around, and figuring out the scene, joins me. The Lucario whimpers and folds his arms over his face in embarrassment.

"Ahahaha, oh dear," laughs Riley, "at least we've got him up, now!"

I pull a length of string from my pocket and dangle it in front of Rampardos. "Look, Rampardos!" I coo, "A new toy for you!"

He drops Lucario immediately and takes the string, trying to figure it out. The Lucario dashes off and hides behind Riley, eyeing Rampardos with paranoia, but I get the feeling he knows he meant no harm.

"Rampa!" cries Rampardos.

"Indeed," says Riley. "I wish I could entertain my Pokémon that easily. Anyway, shall we get some breakfast?" He snaps a case in his hand shut, and when I can get a good look at his face, I see he doesn't have those bags under his eyes anymore.

Makeup, eh, Riley?

He's ripe for mockery, but I do nothing. I can't say I blame him. He looks so haggard otherwise, and now he's handsome and… and… and irresistible. His cologne wafts off of him and envelopes me, and I'm reminded of my dream and of how much I really want him.

I can't freaking breathe.

"Well?"

I come out of my trance and nod. "Yeah, sure. Let's go."

After being in that dark cabin for so long, the sunlight hurts. Riley squints and carries on in silence. I don't talk to him or anything, but just take his presence in. We've been on this ship for three days, but neither of us has gotten our sea legs yet. He stumbles a bit, but rights himself, and carries on reluctantly.

I understand how tired he is. He feels weak and doesn't want to do anything, but he has to carry on. Yeah, I get it. I'm right where he is. He's done a marvelous job of pulling himself together, though; I'll give him that.

At last we reach the main dock where breakfast's laid out. Riley pours himself a cup of coffee. I load my plate with food. We sit down. I give said food to Rampardos.

"Aren't you going to eat anything?" asks Riley between sips. "You're still growing, you know."

"Longitudinally or latitudinal-ly speaking?"

"What? Worried about getting fat already?" He yawns and spaces out a bit. Rampardos loudly chugs down fruit and breakfast meats. His Lucario is eating an egg. All these details around me, yet I can only seem to focus on him.

"Well, you can't be fat if you work in a mine," I answer. "Usually I'm the one sent into crawl spaces like you wouldn't believe since I'm the resident small-fry."

"Hmmm." Sip. "No wonder your father worries about you."

"W-What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, he'd flip if he knew you were skipping breakfast."

"I know that. It's not like you're eating, either!"

Riley holds out his cup of coffee. "Look. Calories. And you shouldn't have taken those pills on an empty stomach, you know."

"Eh…? How did you…?" I sputter, stunned. "Did your Aura reading tell you that?"

"I'm not _that _good," Riley asserts, and he produces a small orange bottle out of nowhere. "This fell out of your pocket."

Damn.

I must've stuffed it into my pocket last time I picked up a prescription and forgotten about it. I have no idea when he acquired it. He's sneaky like that.

"I didn't know you needed medicine, Roarkie. Ought I get your doctor to call in a prescription to Hoenn…?"

"No, no!" I wave my hands in front of him. "It's an… antibiotic. One time thing. Ahahaha." He doesn't believe me, I can tell.

"Oh? Nitroglycerin is an antibiotic now? Since when did this happen?"

Damn again.

"Look. Don't worry about it, Riley. I've got it under control."

"Okay." He hands the empty pill bottle back to me and I toss it in the recycling bin. "If you insist. But nobody under my watch is going to go hungry! We especially don't want a repeat of what happened four years ago, right?" His gaze grows darker, and I know he means business. I don't want to nearly die like I did back then, either, so I silently agree with him and sneak a bagel and apple from a passing waiter's platter. He beams and it strikes me how easily he was able to control me.

I don't usually let people win. When I was a kid, my Mom and Dad would try to assert their authority by yelling and carrying on, and if anything, it just made me MORE rebellious. But with Riley and his few words, I'm putty in his hands.

And I find it extremely attractive how he was able to dominate me without much effort.

Don't think I'd jump off a bridge just because he told me to, but he has a tongue of fine silver.

I set down the apple and stare at him. His eyes are blue and deep like the universe, but they have a spark of cunning in them. I love the way they're full of vibrancy despite his exhaustion and I love the way he smiles, and against my will I feel a smile of my own flit across my lips. I could stare at this man the rest of my life and never grow bored.

"What are you looking at?" he questions.

"Something."

"Do you like what you see?"

"… Yeah," I answer after a bit. "I like it."

"And pray tell me what it is you see?"

My cheeks flush with embarrassment. I let myself get too carried away, and now I've made a fool of myself… except… except… I see something far off in the horizon, and I rise to my feet and point behind him with excitement. "Land Ho… enn!" I cry.

He turns around in his chair and clasps his hands together. "Yes, that's Slateport City's coastline all right! I'm glad we can finally get off this ship!"

See here, Hoenn is far south of Sinnoh. Like, on the other end of the country, so it takes forever to get there, and by ship is the fastest option, even.

A few kids run over to where I'm pointing and squeal with excitement.

"Hey, is that Hoenn?"

"I'm gonna catch a Trapinch!"

"I've heard their Lava Cookies are great! I want 'em fresh, not like the ones you buy at the Veilstone Department Store…"

The ship's horn blows, signifying we're about to dock, and I feel more and more excited every second. I've never been outside Sinnoh before. I've heard stories about Hoenn—their mythology, their contests, and their leadership in the sciences, their towns that range from balancing out in the middle of the ocean to ones inside volcanoes.

Everyone scrambles back to their cabins to get packed, and I join them. Riley doesn't even scold me for not eating amidst all the commotion. I throw everything in my bag as quickly as possible, and when I'm done, return to the dock where people are draped across the safety rail.

The ship docks in the harbor, and just like that we're disembarking, suitcase wheels clacking against the concrete pier. The first thing I feel as I take my first step on Hoenn soil is a gust of warm air, right in my face. It's humid here, much hotter than Sinnoh, but not at all unpleasant. It's also really beautiful. Vegetation grows everywhere. Exotic flowers cast their bright coloring to the clear sky, tropical vines tangle across modest buildings, and the sea sparkles a clear azure.

I ain't in Oreburgh anymore.

Nothing grows in Oreburgh. It's always hazy and we've destroyed the mountains around us, charred black in a state of perpetual filth. It's a landscape from hell. We've gotten better about the environment in the past few years, but sometimes things are just broken and they can't be fixed. The earth gave us our livelihood and saved us from starvation, and in return we killed it. But what else do you have when you live in Oreburgh? Like so many other people there, mining is the only thing I have in life. Yeah, we've got science, yeah, we've got a museum, yeah, we look like a nice place on the outside, but when you cut to the quick we're really just a town of folks who were dealt a hard hand in life, who continuously fight an uphill battle in a vain attempt to crawl out of an economic grave.

But you can't complain.

The modern coal industry is becoming progressively more and more mechanized. Where once thirty men were employed, the introduction of a machine halved that number. I'm just happy I have a job, but one day, I, too shall fall to automatic empire and then I'll really have nothing left.

So I can't help but feel a little jealous of the people who get to live in this beautiful place. It looks nice and safe here, the polar opposite of Oreburgh. Some things I think folks take for granted, like getting to breathe fresh air like this.

But even for this short time, I can drink from their well of fortune, so damn right I will.

"Ah! Isn't this nice?" Riley joins me and stretches his arms out. "How do you like it?"

"It's beautiful here!" I answer. Rampardos sniffs at the ground a bit, and hops around, rocketing into the air. It's a behavior I like to call "popcorning." It means he's happy. I think that maybe the tropical climate reminds him of when wild Rampardos freely roamed ancient Sinnoh and Unova, millions of years ago. He must think he's home.

"Yes, isn't it? We have a few hours before we have to be in Rustboro City, which isn't too far away. They have a rather excellent outdoor market here, so I'm going to pick up some supplies."

"Such as?"

"HM03 Surf, my friend! In Hoenn, you never leave home without it."

"Oh. Well, I have to see the customs agent."

"For the gun?"

"Yes." I bite my lip. "For the gun."

Stop asking about the fucking gun, Riley. The less you know about it, the better. I have a good reason for buying it; let's keep it at that.

"All right. There's a snack bar on the beach. How about we meet there in, say, two hours or so?"

"Sure."

"It's a plan! See you later!"

Just like that, he walks off with his Lucario and his suitcases. Yeah, that won't look totally conspicuous when you're going grocery shopping, Riley.

I stand rooted to the spot. Truth be told, I wanted him to stay, but I have more pressing concerns at the moment. I walk to the customs office and go through all the motions to get the gun back. I stuff it back in my duffel bag and I realize I have nothing else to do for the remaining two hours. It's odd, having nothing to do for once.

After a bit of thought, I decide to go on down to the beach. I can't go swimming… I remember my dream and let out an involuntary moan. My face reddens, and I look around to see if anybody heard. I guess not. Okay. Definitely no swimming. Maybe I can look for treasures. Digging for fossils is kind of like my main "thing," but I also enjoy finding other stuff, too. Gems, seashells, arrowheads, and bits of pottery from glories past—it doesn't matter what I find, as long as it's something with a story to it. Besides, Rampardos will love the beach.

Yes, I decide, this is a very good idea.

I walk along the streets of Slateport City, taking in the atmosphere. Following the signs to the beach, I turn a corner and—

How did I get to the Survival Area at the Battle Frontier? I haven't been here in months.

I blink, thoroughly confused.

Anybody could see that this doesn't make any logical sense. Hell, that's an understatement. But here I am, in the familiar jungle climate, in front of the familiar café that Buck's grandpa runs. To make things even weirder, I'm back in my work uniform. I can feel the sweat plastering my bangs to my hardhat, smell the dirt on my jacket.

At least there's still the familiar weight of my Poke Balls in my back pocket. I reach for one, but then I clench my teeth together. That's not a Pokémon. That's my gun. What? It's supposed to be in the case.

Nothing makes sense anymore.

Hoping that somehow I'll get an answer to what's going on here, I swing open the door. The café is just as I remember it, as dim as ever, and everyone's there. All the Gym Leaders, I mean. There's Dad, and Gardenia, and Candice, and Maylene, and Crasher Wake, and Fantina, and Volkner, and they're all sitting around a table.

They don't greet me.

"Guys!" I cry, trying to get their attention. "Guys, what's going on here?"

They turn and look at me. They don't look happy. Especially Dad.

"Oh, look," sneers Gardenia, "it's Sinnoh's Weakling."

… What?

Gardenia would never say anything like that!  
Unnerved but with my composure still intact, I start to speak, but Volkner rises and cuts me off.

"You have some nerve," he hisses, "showing your face around here! Do you STILL not get that you've been kicked out of the League?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you just mocking your father?" Maylene glowers at me and folds her arms. She's very small, but when she's this angry, she looks like she could kill Arceus himself. "You ruined everything! Have you no shame at all?"

"I… I…" A few tears squeeze their way past my eyelids. I don't know what's going on, but their words are like knives in my chest. "What did I do wrong?"

"Ungrateful little _salope_!" Fantina hisses, smacking her fist against the table.

Crasher Wake joins the chorus of hatred. "Seriously? SERIOUSLY? You ruined Byron's life and you have the gall to pretend it never happened?"

"No… I…" I'm sobbing now, trying my damnedest to wipe the tears away, but they just keep coming. "R-Riley…" I gulp. "Where are you?"

"Disgusting." Dad rises, now, and there's a look of pure hatred in his eyes when he sets them upon me. "Are you still claiming to be in love with that awful man?"

"But you're his best friend…"

"_Friend?_" he snarls. "I'm no friend of some goddamned pedophile!"

"W-What?"

"You thought you could just fuck him whenever you wanted with no consequences, you gold-digging slut? I thought I'd raised someone with morals, not some loose, selfish faggot!"

"He's never laid a finger on me… what are you saying?"

"Tell that to the judge who sent him to prison!"

"Prison?"

"Yes, prison!" There's hellfire in his voice. "You slept with him, you got caught, he got put in jail! Are you too stupid to figure that out?" He's screaming at me now, and I can't bear to face him, but still I make eye contact, and through my tears, I scream back.

"I haven't done anything like this, but you know what, Dad? I am eighteen years old, and the only thing you're right about is that I love him!" I don't even care that anyone's watching us. I'm consumed with rage at his accusations. "Stop controlling my damn life! I can't help that I'm in love with another man, but you have no right to lie to me because you can't bloody accept it!"

"Roark… my god." He slumps back down in his chair, and covers his face with his hands. Candice tries to comfort him. "Why do you lie? What's going on in your head when you say these things? You're only fourteen!"

"What? No, I'm…"

"You're fourteen." Maylene stares daggers at me. "Everyone knows that."

"Stop being so selfish," and Dad's voice quiets several notches. "Canalave Industrial is gone."

"What?"

"Didn't you hear me?" He roars again. "The scandal was too publicized, and nobody wanted to do business with us after Riley got sent to jail! Do you know what that means? Well? _Do you know what that means?" _His voice is strained with wrath.

My eyes widen as I get what he's implying. "No…"

"Canalave Industrial is dead, Roark, and it's all your fault. Thousands of people in Sinnoh and Hoenn are without jobs, including you and me. Oreburgh hates you. Because of you, people are going to starve! Little children are going to go hungry because of your self-centeredness! Little children, Roark! You're supposed to be one of the protectors of Sinnoh! You haven't just disgraced your family; you're an embarrassment to the whole League!"

"No… No…" My knees buckle, and I fall to my feet, weeping. "No…"

"The biggest mistake I ever made," Dad says after a bit, "was having you."

"No…"

"And to think, I loved you so much. I was so proud of you. And you blew it."

"No…"

"You might be my flesh and blood, but you aren't my son. No. Not anymore. Maybe it's best if you just got out of my life."

"… Yes," I agree after a long pause. "I've ruined everything. I'll get out of your life now." I take the gun out of my back pocket, and I'm not even surprised to find it's already locked and loaded. I put it to my head. "I'm sorry I wasted your time."

"Roark—wait! No, not like that!"

I pull the trigger.

* * *

I jerk back into my senses and some sand gets in my eye. Cussing under my breath, I rub it and wince. I'm sweating all over, but I can feel the soft, warm sand under me, taste the salty sea air. Yes, I'm definitely in Slateport. I realize I've been crying, and I wipe away the last of my tears.

Oh.

It was just a bad dream.

I feel like a total pansy now.

But when did I get to the beach? And when did I fall asleep?

I check my Xtranceiver. The full two hours hasn't even gone by. I must've been napping for just a short time. I sit up, calmer now, but still perturbed. I mean, nothing about the dream made sense. I'm legitimately eighteen, I'm way far away from Sinnoh, I'd never hurt any Oreburghian, and I don't love Riley like that.

… Right?

My stomach growls, and I regret skipping breakfast. I really should've gotten something to eat on the ship. I get up, thinking I can buy something from the snack bar, when I feel a tug on my shirt. I look down, and there's a little boy, pointing at Rampardos.

"Hey, mister," he asks, "what kinda Pokémon is that?"

"Oh!" I smile warmly at him. "That's called a Rampardos. It's a fossil Pokémon found in Sinnoh and Unova."

"Ohhhh," his eyes widen. "Neat. Thanks." He starts to walk away, but I call after him.

"Wait!"

"Yeah?"

"Do you know how long I've been asleep?"

The kid shrugs. "Not too long. You came to the beach and ya just kinda flopped down and fell asleep and stuff."

"All right." I crease my brow, unable to remember any of this, but I take his word for it.

He shuffles around a bit, and takes a Poke Ball out of the pocket of his swim trunks. "Wanna have a battle?"

It's not like I can refuse. If a trainer challenges another trainer, you have to fight. It's the rule. I beam widely and go into my Gym Leader persona—Leader Roark, the sweet but tenacious Rock-Type Master, good with younger challengers and not remotely threatening. "All right, dear. How many Pokémon do you have on your team?"

He holds up two fingers.

Oh, this'll be an easy match.

This kid can't be a day over five years old, so maybe I'll go easy on him. Besides, this'll be a good opportunity to train my new Larvitar.

"A two on two match it shall be, then! Are you ready? Get set… go!"

He releases his first Pokémon, a Wingull. I can't help but roll my eyes. The Water-Type advantage he has is a bit annoying, but I can take it down due to its secondary Flying-Type. "Go, Rampardos!" I cry, and a crowd gathers around us.

"Wingull! Use Wing Attack!" squeals the little kid, and the bird flies into Rampardos, striking him with its wings at full force.

"Wing!" it squawks in pain as the feathers bounce off, and it falls to the ground, quickly getting up again.

This kid isn't very good, is he? I search my move arsenal for one Rampardos can use against it. I suppose Avalanche and Stone Edge would work, but then its Water advantage would negate that…

"Zen Headbutt!" I command, and Rampardos' head glows blue. He pummels full-force into the Wingull, and with a flash of light, it's sent reeling into the sand. It cries with pain, and it hobbles desperately, fighting to stay conscious.

"Quick Attack!"

You've got to be kidding me.

The crowd starts to cheer. The Pelipper staggers to its feet, but flinches, and I take advantage of the opportunity. "Zen Headbutt!"

Rampardos repeats, ready to finish it off, but dives a few feet too far and trips over itself. "Rampa…" He moans apologetically.

That's okay. I still have this.

"Wingull! Scald!"

Wait… no—shit!

Before Rampardos has a chance to dodge, a jet of boiling water assaults him in the face. He gives a wail of pain and claws at where he was hit, and when I see him next, his skin is blistered and burning, sapping away his strength.

"Hold on, buddy!" I search through my bag, looking for something that can cure a burn, and I find… I find…

A Chesto berry.

Crap.

I could finish this thing off with Head Smash, but I don't want Rampardos to get hurt any more.

"Zen Headbutt," I choke, and Rampardos succeeds this time, but he wheels back again, clawing at his agonizing flesh. It pays off, though, as the Wingull falls to a crumpled heap, fainted and unable to battle. The kid calls it back. I call back Rampardos, and send out Larvitar. The kid sends out a Remoraid.

"Chip Away!" I snarl.

"Use Protect!"

Ughh.

The Larvitar is unable to land a hit, and he hisses at me. All right. I guess he doesn't trust me yet, but this is just the start of the battle.

"Thrash!"

Larvitar lays punch after punch upon the unfortunate Remoraid, pummeling it into the dust. Yet, it manages to get up again.

"Water Gun!" squeals the kid, getting visibly worried. This time, a spray of cold water hits Larvitar, and he's sent back a few inches. Water Gun isn't a very powerful attack, however, so he still stands strong, if not without a few bruises.

Larvitar Thrashes yet again. The Remoraid tries to use Protect, but it fails. Larvitar just about defeats his opponent, when the little rugrat sprays a potion on it.

"You think you're so good?" I hiss, getting passionate in the heat of battle. "Larvitar, use Dark Pulse!"

The Larvitar spins, dizzy in confusion called on by his onslaught of attacks, and accidentally hurt him, squealing with pain when the hit lands.

The kid gives a devilish little grin and says, "Brine."

No!

Torrent after torrent of water knocks Larvitar, sending him plummeting into the nearby ocean. One person cries out in terror and fetches the sinking beast, bringing him back on the beach. I take one look at his poor, waterlogged form, and shake my head.

Fainted.

Once more, I send out Rampardos.

"Rampardos, finish it off with Head Smash," I growl, angered by the child's odd delight at making my precious Larvitar faint. Rampardos starts running, gaining momentum, until a blue aura surrounds him. Faster still he goes, until he hits the Remoraid on at full force, sending it careening thirty feet away. Recoil hits him, and he sinks to his feet, wailing in pain now, but I feel satisfied. There's no way the Remoraid could've made it through that onslaught…

No.

No!

Thirty feet away, I see a small fish-like creature get back up.

Rampardos gives one last, horrible cry, and falls down, the burn having taken him.

That's impossible.

I lost.

Again.

To a little kid with weak Pokémon.

I'm quivering with a whole Molotov cocktail of emotions—anger, disappointment, self-loathing, but I call my Rampardos back into his Poke Ball, and the little boy runs up to me, a huge grin on his face.

"I did good, didn't I?" he giggles.

"Ah-hah, you sure did," I stutter in reply, trying to hide my disappointment. I take out my wallet and hand him the obligatory prize money. Seventy-five Poke Dollars. Well, there goes my snack. I can't find the heart to get angry in front of him. He just looks so happy, but still, it stings like a bitch.

"Thanks for the battle!" He gives me a thumbs-up, and runs off. I'm just left there to gather my senses, and then I hear laughter in the audience. They're laughing. At me! They know I suck at battling. They know I don't deserve to be a Gym Leader. Tail between my knees, I gather my Poke Balls and sprint away from them, leaving my luggage behind. They can steal it, for all I care. I just have to get away from them!

I run to the nearest Pokémon Center. I don't even talk to Nurse Joy—well, one of them—as she heals my Pokémon. Silently, she gives them back, and I turn around, only to run into Riley. His arms are folded, and he shakes his head at me, dissatisfied.

"One of the most important things you must keep in mind when battling," he tells me out of the blue, "is to not let your emotions get the better of you. You must keep calm and read your opponent, not focus on their Pokémon exclusively." He claps a hand to my shoulder and brushes away a tear. "Call me cold, but Pokémon are merely weapons. True, we are partners, but we are partners much like how a fencer's sword is an extension of him. But does a fencer try to defeat his opponent's sword? No. He tries to defeat his opponent. He can knock that sword all he wants, but ultimately, he has to score a touch." He turns my chin up and smiles. "If you know your foe, you can cut past the frivolities and go straight for the throat. Like a fencer and sword, trainers and Pokémon are one. You take down a trainer, you take down his whole team."

Cryptology. Everything he says is cryptology.

"I wish I knew what that meant," I answer. I feel ashamed of my stupidity, but I can't break away from him. "I'll never be as good a trainer as you. So I guess you saw the whole thing?"

"I did."

"I fought badly, didn't I?"

"I won't lie to you. You did."

"I should just give up."

"Do you really mean that?" His eyes blaze, taking me off guard.

"I don't know. When I look at myself, all I see is incompetence."

"Is that so?" He jerks me closer, so that I can feel my forehead against his. "Perspective is a funny thing, isn't it… because I don't see that." He strokes my hair. "Did you know that the name 'Roark' means 'champion' in Gaelic? I think it fits you, for when I look at you, I see a Champion all right, true to his name. A person who loves and respects all living things, who is kind and pure but strong. Someone who is genuine and modest… considerate, but by no means a pushover. Yes, you have a lot of potential. I like you."

His words and touch drive me wild, and part of me shrieks, kiss him, you idiot! Just do it!

But I don't.

I mean, what's that part of me talking about…? I don't _really _want to kiss him.

Right?

"There's just so much I could do with you! I want you as my protégé."

"What?" I snap out of my trance and give him a long, hard look. "What?"

"I want you as my protégé," he repeats in his famous nonchalant tone. "I'm going to teach you everything I know and then some."

"Seriously? You'd do that for me? But I'm no Lucas or Cynthia-tier trainer…"

"Who said you weren't? Look here, I'll have you know I want to do this. I'm going to make you a force of nature. That is, if you still want to be a trainer."

He smiles. He knows he has me.

"What do you want in return?" My voice is lower than usual, sultry, even.

"What I want you to do for me," and I can feel his lips brush against me, but not kiss me, "is to make me proud."

"Well then…" And I am very close to him indeed. "I'll work hard just for you."

He grins. "Good. Be warned, though. I won't go easy on you. In fact, Lucas calls me somewhat of a slave driver!"

"I never said you had to."

"There." His grip is tight and confident. "You have a good attitude. I knew that spark was still there. A trainer's path is rough, and you must be prepared to lose many times, but I'll make it so that you can face everything. Now, I think we ought to go back to the beach and get your luggage…? We have to go to Rustboro very soon, and I think you'd regret leaving it behind."

I force a small smile of my own. "Ahaha, that makes sense. I'll get it."

"And take this." He claps a weight over my head, and I scrunch my eyes shut. When I open them, I see he's not wearing his hat anymore, and I'm wearing it instead. I get very weak-kneed, then, and can do nothing but stutter at his gesture. "Here. Take my ugly hat, as Byron calls it. You're so fair you might get a sunburn without any protection." He's fussing over me like he's my mother, but I just nod dumbly.

"I'll be back soon!" I stutter, and run out the door behind the Center so that nobody can see me. Giving a squeal, I take off the hat and embrace it tight, nuzzling into the velvet material. The scent of his cologne is heavy on it, and I inhale, kissing it, licking the inside of it. I know how fucking gay it is, but my defenses are struck down, and I can't help myself no matter how hard I try. My heart is pounding out of my chest, and I feel so damn dirty for fetishizing some stupid hat, but _he gave it to me. _He cares!

"Riley…" I moan, nuzzling it closer. "Oh, Arceus, why do you do this to me?"

I don't plan on giving his hat back for a while.

Fetching a duffel bag full of things no one wants can wait, after all.

Remember when I said that I didn't know how he made me feel?

Well, that's another lie.

Truth is, I have a right good idea of what I might be feeling for him.

But I hope to god I'm wrong.


	6. Hoenn's (Former) Champion

**I am having a lot of fun in college, but man, is it hard to find time for writing. I have everything written up to chapter 10, though, so updates should proceed regularly as usual for a while.**

**Tsunayoshi Uni Sawada: Oh, is that so? /Goes to Tv Tropes./**

**/12 hours later.../**

**Huh, what do you know? It is. Believe me, I'm incredibly grateful for any review/follow/favorite I get... that's not to say I wouldn't appreciate more, though, haha. ;) I was afraid of that. I struggled so much writing that scene. When it comes from a first person limited perspective that puts a lot of dampers on the freedom you have to explain things. Maybe I'll have Riley explain it in full later on...? One of the major themes I'm exploring in this story is the blur between dreams and reality. The thing I'm doing with Roark-a down to earth character-is thrusting him into pure madness and exploring his struggle to find the truth amidst a bunch of insanity... whether it's actually there or not. The story gets a lot crazier later on, but at its core it's still a slice of life style tale. Thanks!**

**NinjaGirlRebecca: Close, but I actually have Rampardos based off my pet guinea pig. XD Thanks for the review!**

Chapter 6: Hoenn's (Former) Champion

Riley

Rustboro never changes. It's still the same modern day city with an old-world atmosphere, with the same high-rise buildings, and with the same garish Contest Hall that glares out at the world. The streets are still cobbled and the city still hugs the sparkling sea.

It feels like I'm back home.

Of course, I have many homes.

And yet none of them are my home.

I spend most of my time on Iron Island, of course, but my work requires me to travel far and often. It's the one part of my job I enjoy the most—traveling, that is. The bureaucracy I can leave.

It's midday when Roarkie and I head to my business meeting at Devon Corp. He moves awkwardly in his dress shirt, and his eyes dart to and fro, taking in the sights of the city. Instead of his Rampardos, this time a Larvitar is traveling with him, dashing off every so often to eat some soil in plant pots. Roark runs after it, picks it up, and carries it away from a bed of posies.

"I don't get it," he says after a bit, trying to calm the squirming Larvitar.

"Don't get what?"

"Why I have to attend your meeting with the Devon president. I don't exactly know much about business." He fumbles with his tie, and the Larvitar gets free. It crashes to the ground, hisses at him, and darts in front of us. Roark sighs.

"It's because Canalave Industrial and Devon Corp. are business partners."

"I still don't get it. What does Devon Corp. do anyway?"

"Everything." I chuckle. "They're a bit like Kanto's Silph Co., if you're familiar with them. Devon releases a variety of products for Pokémon. You know Pokenavs, predecessor of the Xtranceiver? Devon Corp. Heal Balls? Net Balls? Timer Balls? Devon Corp. A good deal of our medicines today? Devon Corp."

"All right; I get it. But you didn't answer my whole question." His Aura is imbued with frustration, no doubt caused by the wily Larvitar, and he's taking it out on me. He's a genuinely wonderful person, but he has a hot streak. It's best to just be patient with him and he'll come to his senses later and apologize.

"Fine, fine. Mr. Stone doesn't exactly approve of my business practices." I fold my hands in a steeple and scowl. "As of now, I only own about forty percent of Rustboro's iron mine. I hope to make that one hundred percent."

"Isn't that kind of ruthless?" His cheeks flush red and he hides his face from me. "S-Sorry! I didn't mean it!"

"Yes," I agree with him, "it is quite ruthless. I daresay what goes on in the executive ranks is even dirtier than the coal mines themselves!"

He relaxes at the knowledge of having not offended me, and scrambles after his Larvitar again.

"See here, Canalave Industrial produces many of the raw materials Devon uses in its products, from the coal it uses to power its facilities to the steel it melds into its electronics! If I acquired the mine completely for Sinnoh, I could greatly increase production and even use it as a base to expand the company out to other regions—maybe even internationally! Monopoly is the recipe for success, after all.

"And there would be more in it for you! I could employ more Sinnoh workers here, and perhaps raise wages if I can knock out all the competition and set materials at a high price… ah! I'm mumbling!"

"I can't say I don't like the sound of that, but…"

"But what?"

He twiddles his thumbs, as though debating whether he's going to say something or not, but eventually he opens his mouth. "Isn't that kind of screwing Devon… no, Hoenn workers altogether?"

"Lillipup-eat-Lillipup world, Roarkie. Economics is a grim, cynical thing. Besides, it's not like I could accomplish such a thing immediately! With the job market expanding for more service-based work, I'm sure the people of Hoenn would be scrambling to get out of heavy industry in the span of a few years." I'm lying to him, but he doesn't seem to know it. I feel kind of bad about it, using his lack of education against him. But this is what I do for a living, and it's terrible he has to bear witness to it.

"Well… if you say so. But what do I have to do with any of this?"

"You like your work, don't you? I want you to persuade him that his workers would be much better off under Canalave Industrial. He's a sweet sort of person."

"But you just said you'd replace 'em all with Sinnoh natives…!"

"Ah, are you hard of hearing, Roarkie? Were you deaf to the 'over a really long period of time' part?"

"So I'm your political chew toy?"

"I prefer the term 'poster child.' Will you do it?"

"I don't know…" He shuffles his feet and bites his lip. Roark's a sweetheart. He's always considerate, never selfish. But that's not good for me at the moment.

"Will you do it for me?" I give him my nicest smile and he stops in his tracks. He trembles, and his cheeks grow redder yet. He's facing a dilemma right now, but I have the upper hand. I just know it.

"Well… If you're not gonna lay them all off right away, and if they're all able to get new jobs, then…" he mumbles weakly, still not resolute on his position on the matter.

But I don't give him any time for that.

"Excellent!" I clap my hands together. "And after this comes the mine inspection, and then we can see a bit of Rustboro, yes?"

"I don't like you when you're a businessman," Roark mutters beneath his breath.

"I don't even like me when I'm a businessman. Nobody likes businessmen. It's a fact."

He tenses up.

"That's why as soon as I get this tie off, I'll go back to being your nice old Riley. We just have to get through this, all right?"

He nods lamely.

Byron says Roarkie's too headstrong. Yet here he is, a Mothim to the flame. It's a bit odd, seeing him so submissive just for love, coming to heel just for a small look of approval.

I'll admit. I've always gotten a kick out of being in control. There's nothing quite like the rush of being able to dominate and call the shots without much effort. Is it cruel of me to want all of the power? Perhaps, but don't tell me you wouldn't do the same if you were in my position.

But seeing Roark like this… along with the joy there's a tinge of misery as well. It's odd. To get to the top of the world like I have, you have to step on a few people and stab a few backs, and I've done such things before—that's a secret I keep from the Pierrots. They're my precious friends in a sea of enemies, and if I have to keep them in the dark about the real nature of my profession, so let it be.

Maybe that's why I feel guilty.

He's a beautiful person, really, and here I am leading him on.

I've always been such a bad influence to him. I wonder why Byron didn't chase me away years ago.

This is the part where Lucario would scold me, if Lucario were here. I left him back at the hotel, as he despises my "business practices" as much as Mr. Stone does.

There's something interesting about Roarkie. Here he is, simpering; yet he's keeping me on my toes. He's turning my perceptions upside down.

And I kind of like that.

And in a way, I get a rush out of that, too.

Nobody else has ever succeeded in making me feel this way. I laud him.

"You have my word," I tell him as firmly as I can. "I wish I could just be a Pokémon trainer full time and be able to bypass this pettiness… speaking of which, the Gym Leader here is also a user of Rock-Types."

He raises an eyebrow, and his Aura shifts to wariness. I said he was uneducated, not stupid. He picks up things quickly. He must be wondering why I changed the topic so suddenly.

"You should challenge her," I press, and he lightens up, giving a wistful sigh.

"I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"My team's… not… exactly… in… top… shape…" he hisses through clenched teeth, trying yet again to pull the Larvitar away from digging in the soil.

"Why are you torturing yourself with that thing?" I ask him. "Why not let Rampardos walk beside you? He's more obedient."

"I'm trying to befriend him," answers Roark. "I think that maybe he still recognizes Gardenia as his trainer, so if I let him walk outside his Poke Ball, he'd come to trust me…"

"You're right. He doesn't trust you." The Larvitar's Aura is a nasty one, but only when directed toward Roark.

"Figures. I made him lose his first battle, so he probably hates me."

"I don't think he hates you. Does he obey battle commands?"

"Well, he did last time, but…"

"So why are you trying so hard?"

He stops wrestling with the Larvitar and gives me a long look. "Is friendship not important?"

"Very much so! But maybe you're _trying too hard. _Don't overwhelm the little thing! Let these relationships form naturally!"

"I've never had a Pokémon that didn't like me right away! And I couldn't stand to be the trainer of one that was miserable under me! I've always wanted a Tyranitar, but more than anything, I want it to be happy."

"That's very noble of you."

"My Dad had a Shieldon once that he just couldn't befriend, no matter how hard he tried. He ended up giving it away to someone it did like. Well, I don't want to do that. I mean… maybe I would, if worse came to worst, but I'm gonna give it a hundred and ten percent!"

"So are you doing this just to best your father?"

"What? No!" He gives me a grin, a legitimate one this time. "I'm doing it because I really want a Tyranitar. Isn't that selfish?"

"Hmm… well, I really wanted a Lucario, so I guess we're even on that. Just try not to be so forceful with it. You of all people should know it is simply in a Larvitar's nature to eat until it evolves!"

"I know that. But keeping it under control in civilization… it's not easy to do."

"That's true. Well, let's get this over with, shall we? I think you'll find Devon interesting."

"Uh-huh… ooohhhh." He stops right in front of the Devon Corp. headquarters, towering sixty stories above us. No doubt dazzled by the strobe LED lights that illuminate the behemoth of a building, his jaw drops a bit and hangs loose. "Land sakes!" he exclaims. "I've never seen anything like it!"

Everything's a bit… old in Sinnoh. I don't blame him for being impressed by the fancy light show set in front of us.

"This place is classy… I bet I look stupid in these clothes."

"That's not true at all," I assure him. "You look great. You clean up nicely."

"Eh-eh? Ahahaha…" He freezes and his cheeks turn every shade of red on the spectrum. Lifting a hand to his mouth, he sheepishly averts his gaze and gives a smile despite himself. "You really think so?"

"Sure! Now don't worry about it. This will only be an hour or so."

Roark nods, and then takes me off guard by hugging my arm. Shyly, he buries his face in it, letting me lead him inside.

Pokémon all have super secret and special abilities, things they can do that aren't at first apparent. I like to think humans have special abilities, too. Roarkie's would probably be Cute Charm or something like that.

He's just lovely.

It makes me really very… happy when he acts this way around me.

It's the first I've felt this way in a long time.

"Welcome to Devon Corporation!" chirp the perky receptionists as we enter. "How may we help you?"

"Yes," I greet them; "I have an appointment with Mr. Stone."

"Name?"

"Fannin."

Their faces grow stony, and weakly, one manages to speak without letting her utter fear and dislike slip through. But I know it's there. She knows what I'm here for, and she's against it.

When you're an Aura User, you're aware of everything.

That's both good and bad.

"Ah… apologies for not recognizing you, sir. Your meeting is all set. Again, sorry for having to ask."

"Aha! It's fine." I flash a smile, but only Roark's bemused presence seems to put her at ease. "There's no need to apologize for something as trivial as that."

"And who's this? Is he your business partner?"

"Something like that."

"What's his name?"

"Pierrot," answers Roark, trying to break up the tension. "Roark Pierrot. I'm the mine safety inspector."

"Are you with any government agency?"

"No, ma'am." He pauses. "I'm just a poor sad boy from a poor sad town, and that's about it."

"Isn't he just the most honest thing?" My pearly whites gleam, and Roark hugs me closer despite the fact people are watching. "There's nothing shady about him. When it comes to Roark, what you see is what you get."

His grip grows viselike. Both he and I well know that's not true.

"Anyway, top floor, executive office. I'll page Mr. Stone to let him know you're here."

"Fantastic! Roark, shall we go?"

The elevator attendant remembers me. We don't exchange a single word as the lift creaks up into the heavens. The Devon Corp. scientists remember me. They don't say anything to me; just scurry past while imbuing a sense of pure dread.

I didn't think I was that scary.

The security officers remember me. They don't even question me as I knock on Mr. Stone's large wooden office door.

"Come in!" Mr. Stone calls without hesitation. "I know you're out there, Fannin, ya sly old Fennekin!"

"Did the intercom tell you that?" I chortle, swinging the door open. I promptly take a seat at his desk, but Roark stands behind me, squeezing the Larvitar tight. "Good day to you, Mr. Stone! I trust you've been keeping well?"

"About as well as I can. And my son's told me you're doing all right, is that correct?"

"Yes, that's right." I shake his hand firmly, more as an invitation to a war dance than as a friendly gesture. The old man's eyes narrow to slits, trying to read what I'm going to do next. "And this is my partner in crime, Roark Pierrot. He is the one to be inspecting the mines this year."

"Nice to meet you," says Roark shortly. He's plain nervous being here. "Is this an Andesite sample?" He indicates one of the cases Mr. Stone keeps his rock collection in. "It's very impressive, sir."

Mr. Stone smiles warmly at him. "Hah! You're the first person who's ever been able to recognize that right off the bat! Yes, I found it at Mt. Chimney. My son and I collect rare stones, you see. You're welcome to peruse my findings as you see fit. And what a lovely Larvitar you have! There are Pokeblocks in a jar on my desk… don't hesitate! Feel free to give it one!"

I smirk. Mr. Stone already likes Roark. Good. This'll make it easier on me.

"And tours of the facilities are free. One of the things I'm most proud of is our fossil restoration program…"

"Oh… really?" Roark leans forward, and takes a Pokeblock. At first the Larvitar hesitates, but at last it snaps it up and swallows. "Where's that?"

"Ah, so you like fossils?"

"I love them!" Roark asserts, getting bubblier by the second. "I've quite a collection! I do like finding rocks, but fossils are my first love. I'm even the chief of Ancient Pokémon Expeditions Operations, a rather prestigious program involved with Sinnoh's scientific foundation!" He announces this nerdy fact with a burst of pride and joy. It's adorable.

"Oh, so you're a paleontologist?"

"Well…" He bites his lip. "I'm a… um, a hobbyist." He looks crestfallen for a moment, but picks himself back up. "You have to show me what kinds of fossils can be found in Hoenn! Did you know my Dad has an Armaldo? Aren't they most plentiful here…?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, dear." I grab him by the tie and yank him into a faux leather seat. "You're here to work."

"Ahhh…" He slouches down a bit, and I return my attention to Mr. Stone.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" I remark coolly.

Mr. Stone's delighted expression returns to a scowl. "Oh, just spit it out. What do you want?"

"You're so cold. That hurts my feelings." His frown deepens. "It's about the Rustboro Mine."

"What about it?"

"I want it." My grin meets his challenging gaze, and I lean forward into him.

"You already own part of it! What more do you want me to give you? The world?"

"Oh, don't be silly!" I chuckle. "You can't give me the world because it's already mine, for the most part. I want you to hand all of your assets in natural resources over to me."

"Forty-five percent. That's the deal we cut. If you don't like it, get out."

"I won't budge!" I hiss, and I'm so far in his face he has to lean back in his seat. "Have you perhaps considered that you've taken too much on your plate? A savvy businessman specializes in what he's good at. In this case, you're good at Pokémon products, and I'm good at raw materials."

"Are you saying I'm incompetent at running my own mines?"

"Yes, basically." I give a throaty laugh, and Roark squirms. "I saw last year's business report. Your productivity… not favorable. Perhaps you should focus on one product and make it succeed instead of trying to do everything at once and fail miserably, yes? Whereas Canalave Industrial saw an eighteen percent increase in profit this year. Do you get what I'm saying?"

"That's because you work people like dogs!" bellows Mr. Stone. "And you don't pay your employees scratch! You're a horrible man with horrible practices. For you it's money first, safety last!"

"Is that so?"

"I know you don't care if Devon Corporation benefits. What you really want is that in Sinnoh you have to pay a nasty little severance tax for every ton of coal you remove, while we don't have laws like that in Sinnoh. You just want free money, you bastard!"

"You'd better not piss me off," I snarl between my teeth. "You need me more than I need you, you know." He silences himself and slinks back, defeated.

"Um…" pipes up Roark, shaken. "Mr. Stone, if I can say something…"

Here it comes. Roarkie's doing his job without him even knowing it.

"I'm not going to call Canalave Industrial a worker's oasis."

…. Oh? That was unexpected.

"There are few, if any, healthcare and retirement benefits. The company seems to hate labor unions. Often times I find myself working fourteen hour shifts, and the pay isn't all that great for what I do…"

Damn! I was too confident! He's going to ruin my chances of victory at this already disastrous meeting. But he just keeps talking despite my cues to make him stop.

"But you know what? I'm not at all unhappy here. Riley's got a lot of virtues, and generosity sure ain't one of 'em, but he gives us what we need. It's nothing luxurious, but it's a living, and we, the workers of Canalave Industrial will continue living with what we get, like we always have. For generations, every man in my family's been a miner, and when I hear my Dad's stories about what life was like under the last president… well, let's just say Riley's practically an angel compared to him.

"But I know Riley really does care about us! To be honest, I'm surprised he's like this when he negotiates business, but then again I'm not. He likes money, sure. Hell, don't we all? But he's trying his best to improve our lives! I know it! If you ever talk to him outside the meeting room, you'll know who he really is. He's been a great family friend since I was just a little kid, and I think that says a lot." Roark closes his eyes and smiles. "Who ever heard of a big time executive getting along with his employees? He isn't a businessman; he's a friend and a mentor. And for every flaw, I'd say there are at least five things that make up for it. He's intelligent, he's kind, and in my eyes, I would never want him to change. I'll say he's the finest man I've ever known." Roark's breath is heavy with passion and his words full of vigor.

Mr. Stone sits still for a moment, and says, "How much did he pay you to have you say that?"

"The usual," Roarkie replies with a smile. "Not enough." That smile is more telling than his Aura could ever say. In that smile there's nothing but pure love and adoration, innocent sincerity and conviction. "Let's put it this way. There's no sum high enough in this world you could give me to make me say I hate him."

My heart hurts.

I would've preferred it if he just insulted me. These words are too much.

I don't understand.

Why is my head spinning, why is my chest pounding at a million miles an hour?

I've known this is how he's truly felt about me for a long time, but hearing his honesty even in the midst of my own cruelty… it's overwhelming.

Why is he so genuine? Why can't he just hate me for who I am and what I'm about to do?

And why do I feel like crying?

"Well," Mr. Stone says after a very long time, "if what he's saying is true, then perhaps I misjudged you."

"I conducted myself poorly," I tell him, even amidst the knell that tolls deep in the farthest reaches of my soul. "I apologize for not acting professionally, more so because an innocent person had to bear witness to the resulting carnage."

"I'm at fault as well. We don't have to like each other, but we absolutely need to get along if this partnership is going to work."

"Yes, isn't that so?"

"I'll tell you what, Fannin: I'll consider your offer, but I can't promise you any more than that. Now I suppose you want to keep persuading me? We have twenty minutes left still for our meeting."

"No, no, that shall be enough." I rise and shake his hand once more. I don't feel like talking anymore, and I don't know what it is, but the thought of owning the mine suddenly seems kind of trivial now. I need time to set my head straight. "Thank you."

Roark and I exit in silence, and we stop in a hall devoid of people. Sunlight filters through the massive windows that flank us, and Roark hangs his head.

"I…" he begins.

Then I can't take it anymore and I lunge forward, grabbing him in a tight embrace. He's soft and warm and his beautiful hair is like silk. And I hold him like that for a very long time in the glow of the sun, and I'm happy like I've never been before in this small moment. "Don't speak," I whisper.

He doesn't.

He pulls his head away from nuzzling my chest and looks up at me, but I have a hard time meeting his eyes.

"You're truly fantastic," I murmur. I don't know how long we're together, but at last we break apart. Roark is just panting, staring at me with wide eyes, an expression of shock. "Well, shall we get back to work? It's getting late."

"All right," he breathes. "Let's go."

We walk down to the mine together in silence, neither of us still able to believe that I just did that.

Be a gentleman to him, but don't get too attached.

My mantra plays over and over again in my head, but for a few stupid minutes I ignored it.

We enter the mine's changing room, and Roark yanks off his tie faster than he probably managed to put it on.

"G-get dressed," he stutters suddenly, face growing red yet again. "I said get dressed!"

"Oh?"

"Y-you'll be r-really dirty by the time this is over, a-and you don't wanna mess up your s-s-suit."

Oh. Ohhhhh.

I know what he's thinking.

I lick my lips just to tease him, and he squeals. "R-Riley! Don't mess around! This is very important!"

"Then why aren't you getting dressed?"

"I… I… Turn around!" he commands.

"Eh? Don't you do this all the time?"

"Just turn around!"

"Fine, fine. I'll get dressed facing the left, and you get dressed facing the right if it bothers you so much!"

"And that's final!" he snaps.

I do as I'm told, pulling on work sweats, but every so often I cheat and glance back at him. Every time I do he's staring at me, but he gives a strangled gasp and comically looks back the other way.

And I have to admit… he has a very nice body. He's more muscular than I am, somewhat of a given considering his line of work. Byron would kill me if I said this aloud, but Roarkie's easy on the eyes. Red hair and glasses—it's a winning combination. I can't help but feel just the slightest twinge of lust at the sight of him, but I shake it off.

The next time I look at him, however, he's making no effort to conceal his staring, a worried look across his face.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Nothing," he answers after a beat. "You wouldn't want me asking…"

"Just tell me. As long as it has nothing to do with the briefcase, it's fine."

"All right then…" His eyes shift to another angle, and bluntly, he blurts it out. "What's with those scars across your back?"

I freeze in place, and instinctively, a hand shields the scar that runs deepest. This is the risk of changing in front of him. "You're right," I answer him after a while, "I didn't want you asking that."

"I see…" He looks wounded, and genuinely apologetic. "We can add that to the taboo list if you'd like. I won't ask about it again."

"Maybe I'll tell you about it someday. For now, I'll just say I got these when I was a child, and they bring back many painful memories. Not all scabs can heal old wounds. Plus, you wouldn't want me asking you about your scars, would you?"

"What scars?"

"The one on your wrist, for example, and the new one—on your hand."

His lip trembles, and for a second I'm certain he's going to lose his composure, but instead he gives a laugh. A dark, joyless laugh. "Accidents," he whispers through his teeth, "just freak accidents."

Liar.

From what I can get of his Aura, he's bothered deeply by my observations. An eye for an eye, Roarkie. But I'll spare you the distress. Still… I wish I could read his mind. What goes on in his head?

"Yes, let's make this another taboo. If you or I aren't comfortable with a subject, we shouldn't force each other to talk about it."

He nods. "… Right. Sorry I asked."

"It's not your fault. You didn't know. Let's get back to the task at hand, all right?"

He perks a bit, and his eyes brighten. "Right."

At last we somehow both manage to change into proper work sweats, and Roark snaps on a leather harness with a respirator attached to it. It's old hat to him; while I struggle with it, he's finished in a matter of seconds. Lastly he takes a brass tag out of a bucket and loops it around his belt. He hands one to me.

"Eh? What's this for?"

"Oh, it's for identifying your body if necessary," he answers.

"Ahaha! You have a dark sense of humor!"

"I'm being serious." He makes a pouty face and I can't help but laugh again. "But hopefully neither of us will die today."

"You say that like it's no big deal!"

"Well, I'm used to it." We walk to the mine entrance and Roark loads us in a mancart, a short vehicle that looks like a train car used to take miners underground. I know he doesn't have a driver's license, which surprises me when he takes the wheel and deftly drives the cart down the long and perilous trail leading a mile underground, his eyes transfixed to the tracks in front of him. "I'll admit," he says after a bit, scanning the state of the terrain. It's cold and dark in the mine, and he switches on the headlights. "I'm always a little scared whenever I go underground. I think every miner is, though. You never know what's going to happen. Will I lose my fingers and toes? Will I be caught in an explosion? Will the mine flood and drown me? It's like playing some game of Russian roulette with nature."

"It sounds terrifying."

"No." Roark laughs knowingly. "It's awesome."

"You're a crazy boy!"

"Mmm… I guess you can call me that. But you feel alive like you've never lived before when you know you can die any second. I've always liked danger. It gives me a rush. Is there anything that gives you a rush, Riley?"

"There sure is," I tell him, but I don't elaborate. He still sounds crazy to me, but I can see the method behind his madness.

"The work's thankless, but satisfying. There's nothing quite like triumphing over death just for something as trivial as a black rock. It's like giving it the middle fuckin' finger, you know what I'm saying?"

"Roarkie!" I scold. "Does your father know you use that kind of language?"

"Oh… oh, sorry!" he catches himself. "It just slipped out."

"It's all right. I'm not offended. I curse myself."

"You do?"

"Yes. I do. See? Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck."

Roark laughs. "That's so weird coming out of your mouth!" He tries to keep the mancart under control even amidst his giggles.

"And to think I went to finishing school. Obviously I didn't learn much."

"You're still a gentleman. You even sound elegant dropping the F-bomb."

"Do I now?" I give my own hearty laugh. "Maybe at a gala sometime I ought to walk up to a governess, give her a long, hard look in the eye, and promptly say 'fuck you,' then."

"Riley…! But yeah. Everyone in my family curses like sailors. Actually, everyone in Oreburgh does. The men I work with only know eleven adjectives, ya see. I just hold myself back at the gym. League says there's no cussing allowed after all. And I'm the face of Oreburgh, so I'd better act professional."

"The rules are fucking ridiculous."

"Okay, now you're just being plain silly!" But he's still chuckling. "But a mile down it's free for all. No civility allowed."

We hit the bottom and Roark switches on his headlamp. In front of us is a crawlspace only about three feet high and two feet wide. He jots something down on the paper and clipboard he brought with him, and starts moving forward.

"But yeah, my fellow employees are like a family to me. Maybe I AM insane, but even with the conditions I have to work in, I've had a lot of fun times. Coal dust is a helluva drug." We enter a cavern that's easier to move through, and he surveys the walls. "Ceiling needs a new metal bolt," he mumbles, "right wall is leaking water. That's a possible indication of a collapse."

He brings grace to a field known for its brutality. When he's in his element, he's a fish in the water. He's fast, adept, and moves like a veil, passing through crawl spaces in the fraction of time I can. When you think "coal mining," you don't think "pretty," but he makes it beautiful. He's mesmerizing to watch.

"I'm sure you remember the Oreburgh Mine disaster fourteen years ago, right? The ceiling collapsed and asphyxiated ninety men, including my uncle." He's blunter than I expected to be, and I try to concentrate on his Aura to feel what he's thinking, but I can't gauge anything in the oppressive cold. "After that my Dad really wanted me to not continue the line. He wanted me to finish high school and go to trade school. But I was inspired." He scribbles down a few more notes and gives a friendly wave to some passing laborers. "After that tragedy, I was inspired to help the people in Oreburgh. I wanted to make the mines better so people wouldn't have to die for said trivial black rock. So despite my parents' caterwauling, I became the safety supervisor."

"You really are your father's son. Stubborn to a tee."

"Yes sir."

"But you succeeded."

"Well, accidents still happen, of course. I mean, last year we lost a few people… It's not perfect, and it never will be. Sometimes I feel rather weak because of that fact."

"You shouldn't beat yourself up over something that can't be helped. And didn't one of them commit suicide?"

Roark freezes up suddenly, and I can feel his Aura, like a sharp spike. I see. That incident really hurt him. I said something insensitive.

"I'm sorry…"

"It's okay," he whispers, but I'm not convinced. "She hanged herself from a girder. I was the one who found her."

"That's rough."

"Yes, it's rough. I still think I…"

"You think what?"

"… Could've prevented it."

"No, I don't think you could have."

Roark gives a long sigh. "These past few months, I was dying in a way that would make Death squirm. But you know… being with you… I'm really… I live to serve others, but if I could be selfish about one thing in this world, it'd have to be that I don't… I don't ever want our time together to end. Even though it's just been a few days, I feel…" He turns to me and gives me a sad grin. He holds his Larvitar closer to his chest. "I want these moments to last as long as possible, even when you're being a scary businessman."

"I understand."

"Riley!" A new voice sounds from behind us, and I wheel around.

It comes from a man of average height, silver hair sooty beneath his spelunking gear. His eyes are as steely as the Pokémon he trains, and a little Aron waddles at his side. He's carrying a whole melee of picks and shovels.

And despite how filthy he is… he's wearing a suit.

That's to be expected of Steven.

"Fancy meeting you here!" he proclaims, setting down his things.

"Steven, you knew I'd be here."

"Yes," he agrees, "I did. That's why I chose to search for rocks in this mine on this very day at this very time. How has life on Iron Island been serving you? Found anything interesting?"

"There's always something interesting," I assure him, "even those rocks you like for some reason."

"So there ARE new ones? I've been trying to find an excuse to go back to Sinnoh."

"Ah, but if you take of my property, I'm going to have to fine you."

"You're a damned cheapskate, you know that? You haven't changed a bit!" Steven laughs. "So, did my father give you too much trouble at the meeting today?"

"No more than usual."

"And where is the new rock you promised me over the Xtranceiver?"

"Oh." I point to a very confused Roark. "There it is."

Steven, not having gotten the joke, extends a hand to Roark. "Is this your safety inspector this year? He looks a little young."

"That's because he is."

"Ah! But where are my manners? I'm Steven. It's nice to meet you… er…"

"Roark." He shakes Steven's hand, then stops cold, furrowing his brow. "Wait, if you're Mr. Stone's son… are you Steven Stone? THE Steven Stone?" He can't hide his excitement.

"That's me. Former Champion of Hoenn…"

"You're one of the most famous rock collectors in the world! Oh, wow. It's an honor to meet you!"

"So that's what I'm known for…?"

"You're like my Dad's idol. He's a Steel-Type trainer, too. Riley, does he know you're friends with Steven Stone?" He's talking at a mile a minute.

"Well, he knows I have a friend named Steven…"

"And do you seriously know everyone in the National League?"

"Well, I'm not too familiar with Kalos…"

"Mr. Stone, we should totally trade rocks sometime! Let's trade rocks."

"Do you have Molybdenite?"

"I have _two _Molybdenites! Do you have Oligoclase?"

"You run a hard bargain, sir!"

"And your Aron is so cute! Can I hold it?"

"Only if you let me hold your adorable Larvitar!"

"Deal!"

Well.

This is interesting.

I didn't expect to become the third wheel, but it's nice they're getting along. Maybe I should make the effort to like rocks sometime, too. It seems all my friends are obsessed with them.

"See, Riley?" proclaims Steven, clapping Roark on the shoulder. "He understands the beauty of stones! We're rock buddies now."

"Rock buddies?"

"Rock buddies, good sir. And Roark, do you happen to be the Gym Leader of Oreburgh City?"

"Yep!"

"Hah! Knew it! Riley's told me about you. As trainers, we ought to keep in touch. Here. Let me register you in my Xtranceiver. You should call me if you find something good!"

"S-sure! Riley, this is so cool!"

They exchange numbers, and then Steven holds up a finger, remembering something. "Ah! And I have very big news regarding you-know-what. Riley, you should let me take you out to lunch."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. I can, however, take _you _out to lunch."

"We shall split the ticket, then! Roark, would you like to join us?"

"Ahhh…" I really don't want him knowing about my plans.

"You-know-what?" questions Roark.

"Groudon, of course," Steven answers absentmindedly.

Shut up, Steven.

Roarkie can't know.

He realizes he's messed up and gives me an apologetic look.

"Groudon? You mean the uber Legendary?"

Roark's not going to let this go, now is he?

"I… uh…" I mutter, trying to save face, "I want to see it. Steven's helping me track it."

"Oh? Is that all?" He cocks his head. "Then why are you trying to keep that a secret?"

"It's because…" I scramble to make up a lie. "It's because I can't have anyone else knowing its location. If it's disturbed from its slumber, it becomes enraged."

"Ah. I see. Well, I'm not too interested in seeing Groudon, anyway. I met a Legendary once. It scared me half to death, so as you can see, I'm not too keen on meeting another one anytime soon." Thank Arceus he said that. I can rest easier now. Still, it would've been better to keep him in the dark completely. "And you can go ahead and get some lunch with Steven. I still have a lot of work to do here."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Sure!" He forces a grin. "I mean... I bet you don't get to see him that much, so…"

"Well then. That's very generous of you, Roark. Are you sure you'll be all right?"

"W-why wouldn't I?" he cries in an onslaught of fierce emotion. He bites his lip and sinks back to where he was. "Of course it's okay."

"Very well. I'll meet you either here or at the changing room, then."

"Okay."

"Goodbye."

"See you."

We return to the mancart, Steven and I, and we ride back up in silence. At last, as we see the sun peeking through from the surface, he speaks.

"Why did you lie to him?"

"No reason."

Steven groans. The light is painful after being in the dark for so long. "But you told me you're planning to _catch _Groudon, not just see it. You're not planning on involving that kid with this, are you? You know how dangerous it is!"

"Yes, I know, considering what happened last time someone went after it…"

"It's a shame he had to die," Steven murmurs, and his Aura grows darker. It's a sensitive subject with him. "And he had so much potential, too."

"Don't think I'd ever endanger someone innocent," I tell him, but that's only a half-truth. Roark's already involved with this. He's been involved since the very beginning. He just doesn't know it yet. "And that's the truth."

"Groudon killed him, you know."

"Brendan?"

"Yes… Brendan." His voice is very hoarse now. I decide to break off the conversation, but he won't relent. "And to be truthful, I don't want you going through with this, either. Do you really intend to…?"

"Yes," I answer grimly. "I've waited my whole life to face it again. Every night _that_ event replays in my mind, never leaving me with a moment's peace. That Pokémon… it mocks me just for the sake of cruelty. It'll never let me rest." I curl my fists. "That's why I have to conquer it. Only then will I be able to move on from what happened when I was only twelve years old… You understand, don't you?"

Steven sighs. "You're really serious about this, aren't you? There's no stopping you?"

"Not at all."

"You're crazy."

"No, I'm not. I'm just tired of putting up with something I shouldn't have to! Now tell me what the news is."

"All right. The news is: I've tracked where Groudon's planning to sleep next. Beneath Floaroma Town, in Sinnoh. And I also have that thing you wanted in my car… But promise me you won't get anyone else involved in this crazy revenge scheme of yours, okay?"

"You have my word."

Roarkie listed a lack of generosity as one of my flaws.

An interesting fact is, the inability to keep my promises is one, too.


	7. Honesty

**GUYS I THINK I WROTE A BATTLE THAT IS NOT COMPLETE FAIL. I don't get why Rampardos can learn Fire Punch. Look at its stubby l'il arms. Or Surf. I have a lot of questions.**

**Spelonberry: Thanks for the review! Honestly, I thought it was the other way around! It's a lot easier for me to write Roark than Riley, so I guess when I sit down to write his chapters I just sort of let everything pour out...? Being that Roark is the physical embodiment of the trope "break the cutie" in this story, let's just say he's gone through a lot of suffering. A lot. But let's face it, he's friggin' Roark. He's that ditzy nerd with the personality of sunshine who talks to rocks and uses "fossil" as a verb. He can't be all angst all the time. To me, that just isn't him, but I don't think he's happy and cutesy all the time either. I thank you for your critique and will take it into consideration, but I think you said it best-he's a whole big blob of grey, an awkward, confused person who's trying to sort out a mess of feelings. Also I just realized how much of a sausage fest this thing is. Gardenia has a bit part in this chapter by way of instant message and Fantina will also play a major role eventually. I'm also toying around with the idea of adding Cheryl, Maylene, Lenora, Skyla, and Flannery to the major/supporting character roster.**

**Tsunayoshi Uni Sawada: G-Gomen. Maybe tensaishipping for another story, yes? He has reasons. Horrifying reasons. Thanks for always reviewing!**

**CyanSkye602: NO THAT'S NOT SAD THAT'S THE NICEST THING EVER. His plot isn't changing, but more details of it are simply being revealed as the story goes on and on. Thanks for the review!**

**NinjaGirlRebecca: This isn't the last you've seen of Steven! There'll be more rocks soon. ;D Thanks!**

Chapter 7: Honesty

Roark

"Graveler! Use Rollout!"

"Lucario! Dodge by jumping over Graveler!"

My slow Graveler curls up into a ball and launches himself at Riley's speedy Lucario, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. The field we're battling on has been completely torn up by now, not surprising since he's forced me to fight all day. I don't normally like to push my Pokémon too hard. I think they should get their rest… but Riley has a different opinion on the matter, apparently.

He wasn't lying when he said he was a slave driver.

This is what I get for only being able to fight Roxanne, Leader of Rustboro City, to a standstill. We exchanged badges, but Riley scolded me.

"I won't be satisfied until you can clearly defeat an opponent!" he chastised.

I feel as exhausted as my team, and my lips are parched dry. The wind is harsh and it turns my own hair into a whip against me; my protection is my helmet, but Riley's hat keeps getting blown off.

It would be hilarious, if he weren't curb stomping me even with that hindrance.

Sure, I managed to take down his Gallade with Larvitar's spamming Dark Pulse, and I guess it's a small blessing I managed to win him his first battle… but it's not saying much since I fainted him right afterwards. Those Fighting-Type moves aren't good news for him, or any member of my team, for that matter.

But this friggin' Lucario.

Even if I can land a hit, it just shrugs it off like it's nothing. He's got this thing immaculately trained; now I can see why even my Dad has trouble fighting against him.

It's like he and Lucario are one entity, like Riley's the one doing the fighting himself.

Can you really blame me for idolizing him?

Predictably, Lucario jumps up at the last moment, and as he's right over Graveler's back, Riley cries:

"Now use Close Combat!"

"Graveler! Get out of the way!"

But he's too slow. Lucario deftly punches and kicks at the unsuspecting Rock-Type, leaping off and landing on all four paws as his opponent loses control and slams into a boulder. There's a huge bang, and the boulder shatters over Graveler, raining down on him on all sides. When the dust clears, he's lying very still.

"One… two… three… Graveler is unable to battle!" Riley calls. He's also officiating this match. He insisted on making me battle like I would as a Gym Leader. That means he always gets the honor to go first, and I can't substitute Pokémon mid-match. It sounds unfair, but I understand why he's doing it. He wants to challenge me as much as possible. "Lucario wins."

"Graveler, return." I command him back into his Poke Ball, and bite my lip. "I'm sorry," I whisper to the object. Great. That leaves me with two Pokémon left. Aerodactyl and Rampardos. Rampardos' Poke Ball is shaking with anticipation. All right, I'll send him out next. His Lucario is weakened, as it's teetering and frothing at the mouth—so maybe Rampardos' Flamethrower will take it out.

Still, though…

It's like Riley can perfectly anticipate what I'm going to do next.

_It's like Riley can perfectly anticipate what I'm going to do next!_

Shit!

Why didn't I realize it earlier?

I glance at Riley. He has his right hand outstretched, a blue glow emanating from it. When we make eye contact, he abruptly draws it back to his side.

_"You must keep calm and read your opponent, not focus on their Pokémon exclusively."_

Oh. Oh. Ohhhhhhh.

His words come back to me. So that's what he meant! I remember Riley once trying to explain his Aura powers to me… when he's got his hands stretched out like that, he's given a crude sense of precognition. He's been reading me like a book all along!

But he also told me how to disrupt Aura reading… he told me a funny story once, involving a Mothim, some honey, and some roughnecks…

That's it!

"Aerodactyl! Let's do this!"

I send out my Aerodactyl. He immediately takes to the air and scans the ground for his opponent.

Even far away, I can see Riley's eyes light up.

"Good choice!" He calls. "Now I can't use Lucario's Bone Rush and the Fighting advantage is cut somewhat! But don't relax quite yet!"

Oh, I'm not.

"Lucario, send an Aura Sphere at Aerodactyl!"

"Lucar!"

A blue ball of energy glows in Lucario's cupped paws, but I'm ready for it. The Aura Sphere comes rocketing toward Aerodactyl, but this time I know what to do.

"Aerodactyl! Fly up until you're out of the Aura Sphere's range!"

If Lucario's a rocket, then my Aerodactyl is lightning. Aerodactyl shoots up until he's but a little dot in the sky, and I command, "Now plummet down and prepare Ice Fang!"

"Ice Fang, Roarkie? That's not going to do—ahh! Close Combat, Lucario! Now!"

Lucario lunges at the Aerodactyl, fists glowing for the attack.

"Swerve and circle!" Aerodactyl does as he's told, and cleanly misses Lucario's devastating Close Combat. It howls with frustration. Good. Its defense and special defense have now been lowered two stages as a result of its using said move. Aerodactyl circles one more time, and just as he's between Riley and Lucario, I command: "Aerial Ace! But don't assault Lucario!"

"What are you…?"

He slashes the air mid-gust, sending two powerful jets at Riley and Lucario simultaneously. Riley is knocked back a bit, and Lucario buries his claws in the ground to keep from falling over. Riley flinches and tries his best to rub the dirt out of his eyes as fast as possible, but the Aura connection's broken—at least for now. Lucario just sits there, unsure of what to do now that he's lost the mental link with his trainer.

"Earthquake!" I bellow. "Hustle!"

Aerodactyl wastes no time, and the ground shakes violently. We have to brace ourselves as the field goes up in dust. When everything settles, my Aerodactyl is still circling above, not a scratch on him, and the Lucario is lying unconscious.

"One… two… three… Lucario is unable to battle! Aerodactyl wins! Lucario, return." He pauses for a moment, brushing some of the dust off his blazer. "There's more to battling than brute force. See how good you are when you use strategies? Brilliantly done, Roarkie!"

I blush a little. He complimented me!

"But this isn't over yet. Breloom, I choose you!" He sends out his little mushroom… kangaroo and it chirps with joy.

A Breloom?

What is he thinking?

I should be able to utterly destroy it. Don't tell me he's going easy on me…! I won't allow it!

"Breloom, use Swords Dance," he says coolly. He outstretches his hand once more, and a spark of blue flickers once, twice, but fades out. His Aura is still disrupted. Good. Now he won't know what I'm going to do.

"Use Aerial Ace, and this time, hit Breloom!"

One wing whips out, then two, and a deep slash appears across Breloom's chest. It screams in pain and falls to its knees.

Ouch. That looks pretty painful.

I feel sorry for it. The best thing to do is put it out of its misery and faint it, I guess.

"Okay, Aerodactyl. Aerial Ace, one more time!"

"Breloom! ThunderPunch, now!

Aerodactyl's retaliation gives the slow Breloom just enough time to hit him squarely in the jaw. Jolts of electricity course across the span of his head, and he lands, squawking loudly and walking on his silly tiny legs.

Breloom wasn't even hit.

Aerodactyl's muscles seize up suddenly, and he growls. He's paralyzed. Oh well. With some luck, I should be able to take care of the Breloom with one last Ice Fang.

"Use Ice Fang!"

Aerodactyl shudders and jerks, but is unable to move forward. Well. I guess I jinxed it when I wished for luck.

"Okay, Breloom, use ThunderPunch once more."

A brilliant flash, and then it's all over for Aerodactyl.

"One… two… three… Aerodactyl is unable to battle! Breloom wins!"

I withdraw him, and Riley withdraws his Breloom as well. I'm pleased with Aerodactyl, though. I'll have to work more with him.

"Rampardos, it's up to you now."

"Absol, bring me the win."

The horned creature lands in front of Rampardos. It looks fragile as a twig, yet there's strength and confidence in its gaze. I fumble a bit, thinking of what to do.

Gardenia's scared of Ghost-Types. I make fun of her a lot for it. But there's a Pokémon I fear, too. That's Absol. When I was just a little boy one Absol came down from Mt. Coronet and showed it to me. Of course, just being a kid who'd never seen one before, I got a kick out of the "fluffy white Pokémon" and played with it a bit. But my Mom freaked when I told her about it and a few hours later…

I shake myself out of it.

This is no time to think about what happened years ago.

It's just a random Absol. It has a trainer. It means no harm.

So I turn off the unsure part of my brain and search for a way to defeat it. Zen Headbutt won't work, but then I remember—it absolutely cannot take a hit. This early into the bout, Head Smash shouldn't hurt Rampardos too much.

"Use Future Sight," Riley commands.

"Head Smash!"

"Dodge!"

But it's too slow. Rampardos once again becomes folded in blue, and he rams full force into the creature. The impact even makes a crater in the dirt. The Absol stands back up, weak and shaking. There's blood dripping from its mouth and its back leg is skewed the wrong way. And its horn is… snapped in half…

So it REALLY can't take a hit. Rampardos gargles and looks down at it. He cocks his head and calls out to me.

"Rampa!"

I see. He won't fight it anymore. If he does he'll kill it.

"Riley, stop the bout!" I shout from my end.

"Eh? What's wrong?"

"What do you think is wrong? Get it to a Pokémon Center right now!"

"Roarkie… you're a sweetie. Stop being a sweetie. This is combat we're in! Focus on the match! She's not going to die or anything."

"How do you know that?"

"She's taken worse."

"Wait… so you let your team get this beat up?" I raise my voice in anger. "You should know when to stop!"

"And you should know when to keep going! For one with a battling style so brutal, you sure are soft!"

"Riley…"

"They won't get any tougher if you don't push them. She will be fine. Trust me."

"But…"

"Trust me."

"All right…" I'm not sure how I feel about this.

"Absol, use Perish Song."

"Okay, now that definitely will kill her…!"

But the Absol sings the incantation, in a pained, strained voice. With that, she finally gives out, and faints.

"One… two… three… Absol is unable to battle! Rampardos wins."

"Rampa…"

"Let me use a Revive on her at least…"

"There'll be no need for that!" Riley fishes a small machine out of his pocket and hooks the Absol's Poke Ball up to it. I cock my head, trying to figure out what that thing is. "Don't waste your precious items on the enemy. I've gotten this taken care of. Now, Roark, you've fainted half my team but only have three turns left before your Rampardos faints. Possibly less, if Future Sight takes a hard toll. What are you going to do?"

"I…" I have to trust him on his word that the Pokémon will be all right. Scared of it or not, nothing deserves to be hurt that badly. "I'm going to keep fighting."

"Excellent. Go, Breloom."

I raise an eyebrow at his odd choice to send out Breloom when it's already so injured.

"Rampardos, use Fire Punch."

At first he's hesitant to fight, but then he gets his confidence back and thrusts a great plume of fire at the Grass-and-Fighting-Type.

Gardenia would cry if she saw this.

"Breeeeee…." It moans, and it faints.

"One… two… three… Breloom is unable to battle! Rampardos wins!"

Future Sight activates and sends my Rampardos into epileptic fits of agony, but he manages to stay up.

Until he curls up into a little ball with his tail nestled over his head like he does when he sleeps.

Oh boy.

"Breloom's ability is Effect Spore," Riley explains cheerfully. "Your Rampardos is now asleep and has only two turns left before it faints. What do you do now?"

I curse beneath my breath. He took a fucking risky move, relying on an ability that doesn't guarantee sleep, but he did it. Let me guess. He recovered his Aura reading, and anticipated what was going to happen next.

Even if I use a berry to wake Rampardos up, I'll lose a turn.

Riley has two Pokémon left.

Checkmate.

That devious bastard.

That devious, brilliant, amazing, handsome bastard.

"Now, had you researched other kinds of Pokémon beforehand and learned about its possible Effect Spore, you could've given Rampardos a Chesto berry to hold and conceivably won this match. Never be frugal on using held items! Berries, for example, although difficult to find, can be grown quickly!"

Riley sends out his Salamence.

I wake Rampardos up, and lose a turn.

"Use Head Smash!"

"Use Protect! Good, Salamence! Now use Focus Energy!"

He doesn't even have to attack. Perish Song takes effect and Rampardos crumples to the ground.

"One… two… three… Rampardos is unable to battle! The winner is Riley from Canalave City."

I return Rampardos to his Poke Ball and sigh, kicking at the dirt as I approach Riley.

"You got me again." I force a smile.

"Why are you so upset? Yes, my Aura's working again." He winks at me and shows me the palm of his hand. A blue Aura glows strongly.

"Ah… you got me… again." I scratch the back of my neck. "It's just that… I've been fighting you all day, and I haven't won once…"

"But you were so close this time!"

"That just makes it worse!"

"Hmm…" He places his hand on my shoulder. My face heats up a bit. "You're so hard on yourself. You're as critical of yourself as your father. Lose a battle? TO IRON ISLAND! Make a grammatical error? TO IRON ISLAND! Burn your toast? TO IRON ISLAND!"  
I can't help but giggle a bit. "R-Riley!"

"Ah, but Byron's like that, is he not? I bet the reason the iron ore's all played out in the mine there is because of his manic training! You two are so perfectionistic."

If I weren't wearing my helmet right now, I'd bet he'd ruffle my hair. And I'm kind of glad I am, because there's no way I would be able to handle that.

"Now, there's nothing wrong with wanting to win—by all means, do what you can to obtain it! But there is much to learn in losing, too. All experiences have something to offer. For example, your Larvitar is one step closer to becoming a mighty Tyranitar, right? I'll say one thing—this morning, you couldn't knock out any of my Pokémon at all! You're making fewer careless mistakes, and this is only in the span of a day. In this respect, you were excellent. Small victories are everywhere! You just have to look for them!"

"But I'm not very talented…"

"Who cares? Do it because you want to do it! Practice enough, and you'll meet up with even Cynthia's level eventually! And remember, I'm just good to you because I have way more experience. If I could count every tear I shed when I was learning how to battle as a young one I'd be swimming in an ocean. I'm a crotchety old man."

"You're ANYTHING but a crotchety old man! You're very handsome… uh… I mean, uh, that is to say, you're nice to look at. Er… not that I like to look at you or anything! You know, to girls!" I scrunch my eyes shut, flustered. That came out… awkward.

And… honest.

"Hmm… must be my personality, then, since I can't get a date!"

"Your personality is good too!" I blush, hard.

"Aha, you're so sweet. Maybe a little too sweet for your own good. My personality is good even when I'm being cruel?" He gives me a knowing smile.

"We have to get that Absol to Nurse Joy right away!" I remember, changing the subject.

Riley puts a finger to his lips and unhooks the Poke Ball from the machine. He presses the release hatch, and there's the Absol, looking good as new.

"Sol!" she chirps, as though nothing happened.

"A Pokémon restoration machine," Riley explains, "just like the ones they use in Centers, but smaller. I use it out in the field when my team is in a bad way and I'm too far from civilization. Come now," and he lifts up my chin so he forces me to make eye contact. I'm sweating with nervousness. "Did you really think I'd let my Absol suffer for so long? If I did, she'd hate my guts, and you don't want to make an Absol mad!"

"I was just… worried. Knowing you, you probably acted cruel to Absol like that to get me flustered and lower my guard…"

He beams and nods. "Smart boy. You have a lot of emotional energy like your father, but you can't make it work for you like he does. If you can't use your feelings to your own advantage, keep a poker face so your opponent can't tell. Know your opponent. Identify the enemy. Annihilate.

"You might find me terribly mean on the battlefield, but please, do remember I care for my team. Serious injuries like that aren't at all uncommon in high-leveled battles like this one, so I understand if it shocks you seeing it the first time. You have to keep in mind that Pokémon are much tougher than we are, and we have amazing veterinary technology. But we ought to heal your Pokémon, though, as well as my fainted ones. Since you've worked so hard all day, I'll buy you lunch."

"Eh? You don't h-have to do that!"

Why can't I talk to him like a reasonable human being?

"I insist. Let's go where you want to go."

"Ah…ah, okay!"

"Now, about your battling," he says as we walk back toward Rustboro. The wind is really strong now, and I can't wait to get inside and put on some chapstick or something. "Your offense is impeccable. But what I'm really impressed by is your speed! It's hard to make Rock-Types fast enough so they're up to snuff."

"You've gotta be fast when Gardenia's challenging you to battle every five seconds."

Riley chuckles. "She whipped you into shape, then. But what's not so good is your defense."

"Where have I heard this before?"

"Yes, your father says this a lot, doesn't he?" He smirks. "Maybe you'll listen to me, then. I have many exercises formulated in my mind for improving their defenses. We shall try them out soon."

"Oh…"

"But now that we know what's wrong with your Pokémon…" He stops and turns around to face me. The wind dies down, and all is quiet. "We have to find out what's wrong with Roarkie."

"Eh?" If the Absol incident didn't, this question takes me completely off guard. "I'm perfectly fine! What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know." He starts walking again, and I catch up with him. "You don't seem as confident as you used to. Your Aura—or at least, what I can get of your Aura—is shaken up."

"Oh, I'm just…" I manage weakly. How do I tell this to him? I can't dump all of my baggage on him at once. I can't tell him how I really feel about him… er, how I feel in general. My only option is to lie. "My work's gotten a lot more demanding. I'm very tired anymore."

"Yes, that's obvious." He grabs my arm, and his grip becomes viselike. "Perhaps Roarkie Pierrot is stressed out from work, or…" He leans into my ear, and my teeth chatter against my will. "… Or perhaps it's something else."

"Ah… ah…"

What is he trying to do?

What does he want from me?

I have nothing to offer.

But I'm saved as my Xtranceiver rings. I take it out in a flash and open it. I'm so spooked that I'm even willing to talk to Volkner… okay, maybe not that spooked, but at least I have a distraction. It's Gardenia. She's sent me an instant message.

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: hey dork

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: plants r better than rocks

**PrehistoricFiend **says: rocks are better than plants

**PrehistoricFiend **says: Fix'd

**PrehistoricFiend **says: What do you want

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: i wanted to say hi

**PrehistoricFiend **says: Seriously

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: wow ur nice

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: did u get to hoenn safely

**PrehistoricFiend **says: No the ship sank and I drowned

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: i dont like ghosts

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: i ghost we cannot be friends anymore

**PrehistoricFiend **says: Good riddance

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: haha fuck u

"Roarkie, who is that?" Riley leans over my Xtranceiver. I pull it away from him as fast as I can. "Is that how you normally speak to other Gym Leaders?"

"Only if they're Gardenia. Don't spy!"

"Oh, how gauche of me. I'll just keep walking and ignore you then."

"You don't have to…!"

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: so where r u destroying the environment now

**PrehistoricFiend **says: Hoenn

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: cute

**PrehistoricFiend **says: Rustboro

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: what r u doing

**PrehistoricFiend **says: Hoping to eat lunch sometime

**PrehistoricFiend **says: You're not making it any easier

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: so ur on a date with rileykins

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: what happened to ur important mine stuff

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: liar

I nearly drop the Xtranceiver, and I bite my lip until I can taste blood.

**PrehistoricFiend **says: No

**PrehistoricFiend **says: We are not dating

**PrehistoricFiend **says: Fuck

**PrehistoricFiend **says: Am I not allowed to eat

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: haha ur adorable

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: stop denying it

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: candice thinks ur relationship is soooo cute

**PrehistoricFiend **says: YOU TOLD CANDICE WHAT

**PrehistoricFiend **says: CAN YOU KEEP YOUR FAT MOUTH SHUT FOR FIVE MINUTES YOU FATASS

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: this conversation has devolved into petty insults now?

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: ok if we r doin this then

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: this is literally u

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: HI IM ROARK

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: I AM SHIT TIER GYM LEADER AND I JERK OFF TO FOSSILS

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: BCUZ I WILL NEVER KNOW THE TOUCH OF A WOMAN

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: wait

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: *THE TOUCH OF A MAN

**PrehistoricFiend **says: Why did you tell LIES AND SLANDER to Candice

**PrehistoricFiend **says: She is even worse at keeping secrets than you

**PrehistoricFiend **says: If my dad gets wind of this I swear I will give you all the papercuts

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: HA

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: HAHAHAHA

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: so u r dating lol

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: i didnt tell her anything i just wanted to make u man up and admit it

**PrehistoricFiend **says: How many times do I have to say we are not dating

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: then go ask him out

**PrehistoricFiend **says: Ok what do you really want

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: bring me a souvenir

**PrehistoricFiend **says: Wow you don't even try to be subtle

**PrehistoricFiend **says: I was going to do that anyway

**PrehistoricFiend **says: If you shut up about Riley I will bring you a new plant poke

**PrehistoricFiend **says: Since you got me the Larvitar

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: sweet

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: but i warn you i have many grass types

**PrehistoricFiend **says: Not surprising

**PrehistoricFiend **says: Well I am officially starving

**PrehistoricFiend **says: This convo is now over

**PrehistoricFiend **says: See you later

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: bye Roarkie

**Masterofplantpokes31 **says: have fun w/ ur sugar daddy

_**Masterofplantpokes31 **__has signed out_

"What was that all about?" I mutter. Of course she just shanghaied me into catching something for her, but… I think a bit. Is a souvenir really all she wanted? Is she checking up on me? Does she legitimately think I can't take care of myself?

I'm not given a moment to ponder it further as the Xtranceiver rings again.

This time it's Flint.

"Sorry," I tell Riley.

He waves a dismissive hand, silently granting me permission to take the call. Pressing talk, I wait for Flint to speak first.

"Hey dude! Long time no talk!"

"Flint," I say evenly, "I know what you want, and the answer is no."

A heavy, audible sigh from the other end. "Won't you at least hear what he has to say?"

"No."

"Volkner!" cries Flint, away from the mouthpiece, but I can still hear him. "He's still pissed at you! Haha, dude, what the fuck did you do to him?"

So he has Volkner with him.

I must tread softly.

And carry a big stick.

Flint returns to the mouthpiece, pleading with me. "Come on, man. You know how he gets when he's depressed. As his best friend, I have to be a shoulder for him to lean on, but I also have to kick him the hell off it eventually! Do this for me? Pretty please?"

"No."

"Oh! Ouch! That burns! Look, he really wants to apologize."

"He won't mean it." My eyes narrow into slits, and I practically hiss into the receiver, "he's a selfish asshole who doesn't care for anyone but himself."

In the distance, I hear a strangled yell.

Flint must have me on speakerphone. Away from the mouthpiece, once more: "You done fucked up, Volkner! You made _Sinnoh's friggin' Sweetheart_ hate your guts!"

Oh, I don't… hate him, exactly. At least he's not the one who thrust a pickaxe into my hand for shits and giggles.

But I don't think we can ever be friends again.

"Roark. Broski. Comrade. Luchadore. It's no big secret Volkner's an asshole, but he's a _classy _asshole. Can't you at least hear him out? You don't have to forgive him."

"No."

"Look… did he make you mad when he sprinkled salt on a Gastrodon?"

"He did what?"

"Did he insult you when he wanted to remodel your Gym?"

"No."

"Did he insult you when he insulted your battle skills?"

"No!" I snap. Riley gives me a long look, and I blush, lowering my voice. "He stole something very important from me."

"Can't he just give it back?"

"That would be impossible."

Flint pauses, and then he sounds very serious. "Is there anything—anything at all he can do to get you to listen?"

"Sure." I give a devilish smile. If he won't get the message right away, then at least I can toy with him a bit. "Here is what he must do. First, he must successfully breed a Shiny Cranidos with perfect IVs…"

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Nope. Then, he must journey naked up to Snowpoint's Temple, get said Cranidos blessed, and return south with the Holy Grail with a drink of purified water from the Fountain of Youth in it."

"Haha, oh god… Let me turn the speakerphone up a bit more. This is brilliant!"

"Next, he must swim the oceans from Sinnoh down here to Hoenn without spilling a drop of the purified water as he traverses them. No help allowed. Finally, he shall roll in mud and kneel down to me, kissing my feet as he self-flagellates with a spoon. He will then proceed to give me the Holy Grail, trade me the Cranidos for a Luvdisc, and he must forever keep the Luvdisc as his lead Pokémon from there on out. Then, and maybe then, will I consider forgiving him."

"So are you really that upset at him?"

"Of course not."

"Oh, cool. Then…"

"It's called 'sarcasm.' Look, Flint, I don't have anything against you, but you're really starting to try my patience. That's the offer and Volkner can take it or leave it."

"Okay, I'll ask Volkner what he thinks of it." Pause. "He says you're fucking crazy."

"Then tell Volkner he's dead to me and he should get the fuck out of my life!" I scream into the speaker.

Riley clasps me on the shoulder. I barely feel it, since I'm shaking with rage, but he nudges me just enough so we make eye contact and he gives me a pitying shake of the head.

"Sorry." I adjust my demeanor. "I didn't mean to blow up at you. You should probably stay out of this."

"Should I punch Volkner for you?" asks Flint.

Flint always has a way of making people laugh even when they're wallowing in the pits of despair. I can't help but give a snicker.

"If you want, I guess. But this is between Volkner and me. You already got Gardenia involved… I don't want the rest of the Sinnoh League trying to rebuild this burnt bridge with nothing left to use but the ashes, do you hear? Tell Volkner to stop calling me. I'm swamped with very important contract work for someone who actually has an inkling of respect for me, and I don't need anymore distractions."

"Well… all right, man. I tried. I'll punch him anyway. He has a very punchable face."

"I agree with you on that. Ciao."

I hang up and practically slam the Xtranceiver back into my pocket. I'm bristling with anger. Great. That's the last thing I needed. I turn around to look at Riley again. This time, he has his Absol out, and he strokes the crown of her head, a frown on his face.

"I am sooo sorry about that," I say, trying to save face with him, but he just rubs my back in a circular motion. Some of my stress and anger melts away, and I'm left with the fading embers of fierce passion.

"Representative of Sunyshore, correct? So you're having a spat with him. I had a feeling something was wrong."

I sigh and stare at the ground. We start walking again, Rustboro's skyline looming ever nearer. "Ain't that obvious? What's sad is we were friends until a few months ago."

"Oh? What happened between you two?"

"Let's just say he doesn't value me until he needs me, and even then I'm still just a tool to him. I mean, I… I always want to believe in the intrinsic good of people, but he set down the straw that broke the Numel's back, and, well, I finally got the courage to get away from him."

"Sounds like he needs to learn a good deal of humility."

"Oh, man, where do I even begin?" I cross my arms and grimace. "He's so sheltered. Biggest spoiled brat I've ever met, even though he's older than me. He always gets what he wants and he takes it for granted!"

"Hmm…" Riley pauses and strokes his chin, in deep thought. "So you're saying he isn't very grown up. Well, Roarkie, people come from all walks of life." I don't reply to him. "And sometimes people just grow up faster than others. You, for example, had to grow up early. You had to go to work and for you, it was mature or die. In many respects, I think being rich can be a bad thing."

"Funny coming from your mouth. You're the most mature guy I know!"

"Now, don't you go lavishing all this praise on me. What I'm saying is, it seems you have a hard time putting yourself in other's shoes. Gain a new perspective. Think about possible factors that could make others different from you."

He's right. It is hard for me to understand sometimes. But I just can't forgive him. Good guys Riley and Gardenia, trying their best to help, but blind to the truth.

"As a teenage boy I was quite impetuous myself… Give him some time, and he'll catch up to you eventually. You have to be patient! Patience, Roarkie—on your battles, on your relationships—don't get ahead of yourself."

"What are you saying?"

"Well…" He gives me his million-dollar smile. "You tend to leap before you look. You're better than your father in this respect, but only in the sort of way that Byron tends to leap into pits of boiling magma whereas you only leap into vats of battery acid. Now, I want you to pretend you're some neutral entity. You're not Roark anymore. You have no biases. Think. Isn't there any good in Volkner?"

And I do think, and Riley is right, yet again.

He's not completely selfish. I mean, he hooked up the automated coal transport system when I couldn't figure it out, and he went out of his comfort zone on a camping trip with Gardenia and I once even though he knew (and still doesn't know) nothing about the wilderness, just for us, and he did stand up for me when everyone else was mocking me at the Battle Frontier a while back...

Volkner is brilliant, but stupid.

I can't deny he hurt me deeply, though.

"So I think you should at least give him a chance."

"I…"

"… But I feel your inner grief, and how deeply the wounds cut. That's why I can't force you to be up and ready to speak with him right away."

"I…" I clutch my arms defensively to my chest. It's the only thing I can do. I can't hide anything from him. He can just read me, take in my Aura like it's goddamn soup. I plant my feet in the ground and try to stay strong. I can't let him know about this year. It'll end up hurting him more than me, and when he inevitably tells Dad, I'm sure he'll never want anything to do with me ever again. Just like that dream I had on Slateport's beach.

And then I'll be alone again.

If the only way I can keep the people dearest to me safe from the truth is to grin and bear it, then so be it.

"You understand me more than I understand myself…"

"Sol…" An Absol brushes by my side. I seize up in fear, but reluctantly pet her when she repeatedly rams my side with her head. Her fur is as soft as I remember an Absol being, but when I look at her she is a bitter winter, a lonesome thing becoming one with the sheer cold. A feeling of dread passes over me, but then I feel—I feel peace, I guess.

Riley's looking at me, and I can't read his face. It's a dark, knowing look, like he has access to some horrible revelation but won't take action about it. He's a Honchkrow and a Fennekin and a Xatu, he is, his wings folded across his breast because he's too consumed by his own fear, and he'll never fly.

But what do I know?

I'm just a rock, something to be kicked aside and crushed. When you take a hammer and crack me open, even my innermost secrets are unremarkable in the face of the beauty and the terribleness of the world.

But then he returns to his usual soft smile. "She likes you!" he declares. "I think she's thanking you for looking out for her!" We cross into Rustboro, and enter the Pokémon Center. "No, Roark, I wouldn't say I understand you. I know you, but I don't understand you."

"B-but your fancy Aura thing! You can just take a look…"

"It's not that simple, I'm afraid. I should tell you I know how to read minds. I can read Byron's, so I understand him, but as for the son… he's a conundrum." We heal our Pokémon in silence, until he picks back up. "The only thing I know for sure is you suppress things. All living things give off Aura, though, so I can only take yours in because it… leaks, per say. Not a very elegant way of stating it."

"So you can't read my mind?"

"Nope! I can barely register anything from you!"

"A bit of a creepy thing to tell a guy." We exit the Center. Rampardos and Lucario are out of their Poke Balls again, rejuvenated and full of energy. "I mean… do you WANT to read my mind? You won't find much there. I'm just a simple boy. There are rocks in my head too, ya know, ahaha… I'm not doing anything to prevent you from…"

"And that's what puzzles me!" He leans into my face, too close for comfort, and I gulp. "I don't buy you're just a 'simple miner boy from Oreburgh who really likes fossils and that's about it.' Surely there's something else to you… And that's why I feel like I've never really understood you. I want to understand why you think the way you do, experience the things you've felt and seen, I want to know what hurts you and what emboldens you, what…"

"Riley! That's enough!" I didn't mean to snap at him, but he's scaring me. "If you're looking for something interesting, you're not gonna find it! You said it yourself: when it comes to me, what you see is what you get."

"Ah… I got ahead of myself." The wind's almost gone. "I should've known saying something like this to non-Users would be intimidating. I just want to let you know there's no way I can infringe your privacy."

"Well, I appreciate you told me what you're capable of." I give a small smile. "I'm glad you're honest to me. But I'm not that deep. If you want to know something, just ask."

"Okay then. What do you feel about me?"

"Eh?" I freeze. All the questions in the world, and he had to pick THAT one.

"I want your complete, honest opinion on me."

"I…" My knees knock. Oh Arceus, how do I approach this? My head is swimming, and I quicken my pace, trying to get away from him, but to no avail. "D-don't mess around, Riley. You know how I feel about you. I've told you everything you need to know…"

"Oh, so you legitimately think I'm perfect even though yesterday you acknowledged I wasn't perfect? Or maybe Roarkie's feeling something else he can't quite own up to." He closes his eyes and beams.

I feel like shutting down, but I don't. "S-stop creeping me out. Let's get some food."

"All right. I won't pursue it any further. How does that café over there look?"

I have no strong opinion on it, so I just let him escort me inside. We sit in silence, until the waitress comes in to take our orders.

"Umm… burger and fries, and the nachos," I say lamely, hiding behind my ice tea to avoid Riley's piercing gaze.

"My Lucario would like the open faced roast beef sandwich and mashed potatoes," starts Riley. The waitress gives him a funny look. "And as for me, the hummus plate." This time, I give him a funny look. Why would he order humus for lunch?

"So… do you always order topsoil for lunch?" I ask him as the waitress leaves.

Riley cocks his head, so his hat topples over his face. "What? Wait… what?"

"You just ordered humus! You know, that layer of soil rich in decomposed material and minerals…"

"Oh." Suddenly, he bursts into laughter, maniacal laughter that causes everyone in the restaurant to stare at us. "Oh! OH!" Shaking with mirth, he can barely get out his next sentence. I shrink further behind my glass. "R-Roarkie… I ordered _hummus_, not _humus_! It's a M-Middle Eastern chickpea dip… ahahaha!"

"D-don't laugh at me!" I'm red as a beet and indignant at the same time. "It's not my fault I don't know your fancy foreign foods!"

"I-I'm sorry. It's just too c-cute and funny… ahahaha…!"

H-he thinks I'm cute? I'm pretty sure I outgrew that by the time I hit twelve…

"But do you really not know what it is? Is there any contact with the outside world in Oreburgh at all?"

"Ahhh… Why are you even friends with me?"

"Hmm?"

"I mean…" I cross my arms and lean back in my chair. "We're worlds apart. You're sophisticated and well traveled and probably know lots more important people you'd rather be with than me. And I'm just really nothing compared to you!" I grip my glass tighter.

Why did it have to be him?

Why did it have to be my Dad's _male _best friend?

Why couldn't it have been Gardenia, or, shit, Candice or something?

Why do I want someone I can never have like this?

Pay attention. Here's the third lie I've told myself: _I don't know what I'm feeling. _Hell, I could make a drinking game out of how many lies I tell myself because I'm such a damned coward.

Truth is, deep down I know maybe—just maybe—I might be falling for him—just a little (absol-fucking-lutely), but I hate myself for it.

I'm such a freak.

If I told him, what would I get out of it? He'd probably want nothing to do with me anymore. I already lost my Mom. I don't want Dad hating me too. And I don't want to lose my friends in the mines… what if they tried to hurt me? I know they would. And Gardenia says it's okay, but I don't know. Is she just teasing me? Is she being genuine? What about the rest of the League? Would they turn on me too?

I've worked so hard to get everything I have. I can't lose it. If I never admit it out loud to him or myself for my own greater good, then so be it.

"Are you okay?"

I snap back into reality and find I've practically shrunken beneath the table. I straighten up.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I mutter.

"Now what's this about 'people I'd rather be with?' I chose to be friends with you and Byron, and that is that!"

"It's just that… look at me." I furrow my brow. "I don't know how anyone could like me. I'm just… I don't know. I'm dirt poor. I'm too much of a nerd. I have bad social skills. I can't even… I can't even talk to you! And I'm homely and…"

Slap.

"Bad boy!" Riley snarls at his Lucario, paw outstretched at me. On my face, a red welt in the shape of said paw. I guess it's true what they say. They really can understand human language. "Roark, I'm sorry… I don't know what got into him…"

"No, it's okay." I nurse my cheek and give a smile. "I needed that, actually. So in a sense, he's a good boy."

"I'll find a way to punish him, although, I can't help but agree with what he's telling me."

"Huh?"

"Telepathy." He grins. "Want to know what Lucario and I think?"

"… Okay."

"The gist of it is… how dare you put yourself down like that! I won't deny you're different, but you're yourself, and I admire that about you! It's fine to like fossils and want to share what you know. I wish I'd be doing anything half as constructive as you most of the time!"

"R-really?"

"Although, it's probably a bad idea to overwhelm people with too many facts at one time, yes?"

"Uh… You really admire me?"

"Sure I do. See this hat?"

"It's pretty hard to miss…"

"Hah! I'd always liked this hat, but years ago I was too worried about what others would think of me, so I dressed 'normally,' so to speak. But I'd watch you and Byron, and see how you enjoyed the things you liked without much thought on outsiders' opinions, so I decided, if you can have that sort of courage, then so can I."

"Oh…" A smile tugs at my lips.

"Nobody else might like this hat, but I do, and that's all that matters. Your friends don't have to like the same things as you do or even agree with you, but if they won't accept you for who you are, they aren't your real friends at all! Besides, liking fossils is only one part of you. You have many qualities—you're kind, you're responsible, you're fiercely passionate about what matters to you… What isn't to like?"

"S-stop!" I blush yet again, for, like, the thirtieth time today.

"And so modest, too! And what makes you think you're homely? Oh… do you have a crush?" He winks at me, and my tongue-ties itself in knots. Not just a knot. Multiple knots.

"Uh… m-maybe?"

"I thought so! Well, whoever this person is, I'm sure he finds you appealing. There are always people who like your sort of look."

"Oh… okay… wait! What do you mean by _he?_" I come on way stronger than what is necessary, but Riley only shrugs and takes a sip of water.

"It was a slip of the tongue. My bad."

I'm not sure I believe him. Riley is, after all, this omnipotent eye that sees all due to his power. Then again, he did say he couldn't read me, but I just don't know. He's a mystery.

"Things always work themselves out. I don't want you to go insulting yourself anymore. A bit of healthy criticism is fine, but don't defeat yourself."

The food comes, and I feed Rampardos a nacho. He snaps it up, and I can feel the strong force he exerts even though he's not biting me.

"Hey, Riley?" I murmur after a bit. I swirl a fry around in ketchup, back and forth, back and forth.

Condiment pendulum.

"Hmm? What is it?"

"I was just wondering… have you ever fallen in love before?"

"Oh?" He gives me a look that suggests he knew I was going to say that all along. "No, I can't say I have, Roarkie."

"Oh… so you don't know what it's like, then?"

"Well, I don't think there's one good way to describe how love feels. I think it's something you just know based on intuition. But I'd also say that when you really love somebody, you really want to make them happy and see them grow into a better person."

"That's… interesting." I stop swirling the fry.

"What is?"

"I was just thinking about those letters you wrote me, and… it's just... it seems you've always been there for me. I want to… I want to be the same for you. I know you're much wiser than me, but if there's anything I can do to support you, I…"

"And now I have a question for you." I cock my head, but don't make a sound. He continues anyway. "Tell me, do you believe in destiny?"

"Destiny?" Okay, that's a random question. "Well, based on my own experiences, I've never felt like I've been 'destined' for anything, so not really. I think to say one's destined for anything is a little vain, to be honest. Are we not all the same in the eyes of Arceus, after all?"

"So, you don't feel like you're meant for greatness or infamy…?" His eyes blaze, and he's lost interest in his food. It makes my heart pound, knowing he's engrossed in what I have to say.

"Well, of course there are some things that can't be helped. Like if you're born poor, it's hard to get out of that rut, and you can't control if you lose a limb or something like that… but when it gets down to it, I believe completely in free will. I think no outside forces can mold you into who you choose to be."

"Hmm…"

"What do you think of that?"

"I'd say you're a little naïve."

"Oh… I…" I rub the back of my head and grin. "I get that a lot. But that's what I think."

"But what if your life was inseparably entwined with someone else's? What if everything in your life depended on that person? And what if you loved that person so much you would die for him or her?"

"Uh…" I stop and bite my lip. Then I close my eyes and smirk. "Sounds romantic. But even I'm not naïve enough to believe in that. But on second thought, I might just die for someone."

"Romantic… or a little bit dark? Anyway, as fascinating as this discussion is, we should eat before our food gets cold. We won't be eating until we get to Dewford tonight, you know. The Gym Leader there uses Fighting-Types. It'll be good for you to challenge him."

"Yeah, yeah. One more question."

"Yes?"

My smirk grows more pronounced.

"Can I try that hummus stuff?"

"Of course. But you owe me a fry in exchange."

"Deal!"

Riley is a strange person, but he is a good person. When I'm full of self-hatred, he makes me feel at peace. I know he's not without his faults, but to me he's everything I've ever wanted. Just being with him makes me happier than I can ever describe, and he doesn't even have to work at it.

And maybe that's why I love him so damn much.


End file.
